


Dudley Dursley and The Boy-Who-Lived

by StarGirl077



Series: The Dudley Dursley Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Football | Soccer, Good Blaise Zabini, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Dudley Dursley, Good Slytherins, Good Theodore Nott, Gryffindor Dudley Dursley, He'll Get Better Eventually, Hogwarts First Year, Magical Dudley Dursley, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Physical Abuse, Read at Your Own Risk, Slight Ron Weasley Bashing, Slytherin Harry Potter, Work In Progress, but he means well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 64,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22237357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarGirl077/pseuds/StarGirl077
Summary: Dudley Dursley didn't always like his cousin Harry, but when Harry saves Dudley from a snake on the playground, a budding friendship forms. Dudley becomes Harry's protector and big brother. But all isn't as it seems. Dudley knows weird things happen around Harry, but what happens when Dudley finds out they happen around him too?OR:What if Harry saved Dudley before the dementors, and Dudley actually had magic?
Relationships: Also because I'm unsure as to what they will be and I don't want to bait anyone, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley & Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley & Hermione Granger, Dudley Dursley & Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter & Blaise Zabini, No romantic pairings yet because they're children, Theodore Nott & Harry Potter
Series: The Dudley Dursley Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991701
Comments: 139
Kudos: 689





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was an idea that popped into my head a week ago and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it so I had to write it. That being said this is a work in progress and I do have a lot of stuff going on in my life so I don't know how regularly I will post. I do have an outline for the first six chapters and I have the second written (just not edited). I also don't have a beta reader so any and all mistakes are mine. I try to edit but I don't catch everything so sorry in advance!  
> Also, this story will feature a violent and abusive Dursley family. If you are triggered by emotional or physical abuse I would suggest that you don't read this fic. There will NOT be sexual abuse in this fic.  
> I think that's it! Thanks for reading and feel free to comment and kudo!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As of 7/28/2020 this chapter has been edited. The only big changes are that I explain why the boys haven't come forward about the abuse.

Dudley Dursley wasn’t normal, not by his parents’ standards, but there was no way he would let them know that. Dudley hadn’t been “normal” since he started to get along with his younger cousin Harry. Harry  _ definitely  _ wasn’t normal, but unfortunately, Dudley’s parents knew it. And they hated him for it. Though, it seemed to Dudley that there wasn’t anything his cousin could do about the weird outbursts that happened around him. There was a time Dudley could vaguely remember in which he, too, hated his younger cousin but that all came to an end the day Harry saved him from the snake.

It was recess at the primary school they both attended. Both boys had just started first grade. Dudley and his friends were enjoying their favorite pastime: tormenting Harry. Harry was backed against a tree as the boys cornered him. Suddenly, a snake rose up from the ground and appeared, ready to strike Dudley. His friends ran away screaming, but Dudley had frozen in fear. And then Harry  _ spoke  _ to it. It sounded like hissing, but even at five, Dudley could tell the snake and his cousin were having a conversation. It turned its head, hissed at Harry, and appeared to shake its head at Dudley. Harry shook his head, hissed some more, and then it slithered away. Dudley’s friends accused Harry of setting the snake on them, but Dudley knew the truth. Harry saved him that day. From that day onward, Dudley was nicer to Harry, although the same thing couldn’t be said about his friends. Their bullying only got worse after the incident.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, perhaps the day he punched Piers Polkiss in the nose, but at some point, Dudley realized that he liked Harry. The boys had formed a mutual respect for each other, and Dudley found himself getting angry when someone insulted his little cousin.

The day he punched Piers wasn’t any special day. Dudley had grown further and further apart from his other friends, as he realized that he didn’t want to be a bully. He supposed that day he had just had enough of Piers’ constant jabs at Harry. After a particularly mean comment about Harry’s clothes and glasses, Dudley turned around and hit Piers in the face. He was immediately taken to the principal’s office and reprimanded. His mother and father were notified, but he hadn’t gotten in trouble. His father was proud that he stood up for himself, and his mother was convinced that the other boy had deserved it. He, of course, didn’t mention that he had only punched Piers because of the way he treated Harry. That wouldn’t have gone over well.

This wasn’t the last time that Dudley physically assaulted someone for picking on his cousin, and when it became apparent to the school that nothing was being done at home, they decided to take matters into their own hands. Dudley had to see a guidance counselor once a week when the children in his class did art. He was less than thrilled to have to see her. After all, he was just doing what had to be done. If Harry wouldn’t fight for himself, then it was his job to do it for him. 

The counselor’s office was small but homey, and Dudley could almost believe he was in someone’s living room and not a school. The counselor had decorated her office to be warm and welcoming, and there was a small comfortable looking couch with a matching armchair. Across from both was another chair with a desk next to it. The school counselor was a petite brunette. She had pulled her hair up into a loose bun, and he could see a pencil sticking out of it. Large, round, blue glasses, similar to those his cousin sported, framed her face, and her smile was genuine. Dudley had seen far too many fake smiles adorn the faces of the women his mother held bookclub with not to know the difference. When he entered the room, she stood up and offered her hand to him.

“Hello, Dudley, my name is Hannah. Feel free to sit anywhere,”

Dudley situated himself in the armchair. He was a bit perplexed by her introduction. Was Hannah her last name? She seemed to sense his confusion.

“I think it’s best to be on a first-name basis if we’re going to talk honestly,” she elaborated. He just nodded at her. “So, I hear you’ve been acting out in class,” she began, “Can you tell me about it?”

“Well, I punched Malcolm yesterday on the playground,” he said. She knew this; it was why he was here.

“And why did you punch Malcolm?” Dudley knew this was going to be her next question. And this one was always the hardest. At home, it had been made perfectly clear that Harry was scum and wasn’t worth the dirt underneath his family’s shoes. Dudley was always worried his parents would find out the real reason he was getting in fights.

“He called me an oversized pig and made oinking noises at me,” Dudley explained. Dudley was big, and it wasn’t something he was proud of. Harry had offhandedly suggested Dudley use this as his lie when asked. He said that a bit of truth mixed in with a lie always made it more believable, and bullies did have a habit of picking on the heavier kids. His cousin had once tried to discourage him from fighting, but once it was clear Dudley wouldn’t stop, Harry started to help him cover it up with the adults.

But Hannah just frowned at him. “Is that really why you punched him?” When Dudley stayed quiet, she added, “See, I have a sort of sixth sense for knowing when people aren’t telling the truth.”

Dudley shifted nervously in his seat. She looked at him calmly with a small smile on her face. Nothing about her screamed that she was trying to trick him. Perhaps he could talk to her.

“Will you tell my parents?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“I won’t tell your parents anything that you say here unless what you say makes me think you or someone else is in danger,” she assured him.

“What kind of danger?”

“The kind where someone gets hurt or dies,” she clarified.

“So, not someone being bullied?”

“Is someone being bullied?” she probed. 

Dudley nodded. 

“But they don’t want anyone to know?” she guessed. 

Dudley nodded again. 

“I see,” she paused, “So, you’re protecting someone, and that’s why you’re acting out?”

Dudley nodded another time. She seemed to be waiting for him to talk again. “I don’t like it when they pick on him. And he doesn’t stand up for himself. I just want them to leave him alone. And then, then...” he paused. She gave him another smile and let him collect himself so he could continue. “Sometimes, I get really, really angry, and I don’t know what to do about it,” he admitted.

“Thanks for telling me all that, Dudley. That was very brave of you,” she seemed to be genuine in her praise. Dudley blushed. He didn’t get complimented very often, and when he did, it was usually by his parents for something he wasn’t proud of.

“So, tell me a bit more about this anger you feel,” Dudley was relieved they weren’t going to talk about Harry anymore. He had already said too much.

“Well, sometimes, I get really, really mad when someone hurts my feelings, and I just want to punch them, so I do. I just get so mad, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Okay, so it sounds like when someone hurts your feelings, the way you want to deal with it is through violence. But it also sounds like you know that this isn’t how you should be dealing with your anger. Is that right?”

Dudley nodded.

“Okay, so then I want us to come up with some things you can do when you feel really mad like that. First off, I want you to try to talk it out. Maybe they don’t know that what they’re saying is making you mad. Maybe they do. But I want you to take a second the next time you get mad and tell them why you’re mad. Can you do that?”

“I can try.”

“That’s all I can ask. We can’t be perfect all the time, especially when our feelings get hurt. Next, I want us to come up with three things you can do when you’re really mad, and talking it out doesn’t work. It’s time to go, but I want you to think about that for next week, okay? Come in with some ideas.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

“Good, I’ll see you next week, Dudley. Oh, and if the person you’re protecting ever wants to come and see me, my door is always open.”

Hannah was the best thing that could have happened to Dudley. She made him feel like his anger was manageable, and she never talked down to him. Every week he came in and talked, and slowly he got a better handle on his emotions. His fights in class dropped significantly, and he started using his words. It didn’t always work; he still had altercations with Piers and his group, but Hannah was always there to calm him down afterward. She never once admonished him for acting out; instead, she listened and helped him work through it. Dudley took up boxing and wrestling, something Hannah approved of as a healthy way to work through his aggression. He was also behind in his classes, so sometimes, she helped him with his school work. After observing his reading, she got him tested for dyslexia. When he tested positive, she got him into more rigorous tutoring sessions so he could catch up on his studies. His grades drastically improved after that.

Harry was there through it all. He studied later in the library to help Dudley read, quizzed him on math, and came to all his wrestling and boxing matches. The boys grew closer even as things got worse at home.

When the boys reached the middle of third grade, Harry’s punishments became more severe. On a cold and windy winter night, Vernon and Petunia hosted a dinner party to close a big deal Vernon made for Grunnings, the drilling company he worked for. The dinner was a disaster. Dudley was required to attend, but Harry was forced to be in his cupboard. They normally would have left him outside, but with the weather the way it was, he would have frozen to death.

The couple brought along their son, a boy in the same year as Dudley. He was posh and sneered at the Dursley’s home. He made a point of telling Dudley how much better his things were. Dudley tried to be gracious and a good host, he really did, but his anger was starting to get the better of him. He tried to picture Hannah’s face and think of what she would tell him to do, but it wasn’t working. Just as he thought he was going to lose it, the window blew open, and a strong gust of wind knocked the boy from his seat. Vernon tried to play it off as a faulty latch, but it set the guests on edge for the rest of the night. Dudley could see his father casting angry glances at the cupboard, and Dudley knew Harry was in for it after the dinner ended.

The incident was almost forgotten until the stove burner turned on of its own accord, burning the second course. It saved Dudley from another snobbish comment from the boy across from him, but now he was really worried. He knew that these sorts of things only happened to Harry when he was upset, but Dudley couldn’t understand what had Harry so upset tonight. He hoped that Harry would calm down soon. 

The night was utterly doomed when the champagne bottle Vernon had bought to celebrate burst. The house turned to mayhem after that. Everyone was drenched, the man blustered about how he had never been treated to such poor service in his life, and the boy started to scream and cry. To top it all off, glass from the bottle had hit the wife, cutting her left cheek. Dudley was sorry that his father had lost the deal, but he didn’t think that the people were very friendly and therefore didn’t feel too bad about it.

Dudley was sent to bed early. He heard his father yelling at Harry downstairs and found himself too anxious to sleep. After his parents had gone to bed, Dudley snuck back down to the kitchen to get Harry some food. But what he found when he opened the cupboard was shocking. Harry lay face down on his cot, sweat and blood dripping from his back. His too big shirt was pasted to his body. Dudley wasn’t a fool, he knew his father had hit Harry before, and his mother sometimes smacked him with a frying pan, but he’d never beaten him. When he tried to rouse Harry and get him into a position to try and help clean his back, the boy was barely conscious. Dudley was thankful for his time on the wrestling and boxing teams, as were it not for his strength, he wouldn’t have been able to lift Harry enough to get his shirt off. The sight of Harry’s bareback made his stomach twist, and the smell made him want to vomit. There was so much blood. It was at that moment that Dudley first began to be afraid of his father. He hadn’t been overly fond of the man since he was really little, but he knew only a monster could do that to a small child.

Dudley also realized he had no idea what to do. What could you do when the monster under your bed was your own father? More importantly, he didn’t know how to help Harry. Anything he said would just make it worse. And he was a kid; he didn’t know how to fix Harry’s back. When you got a scrape, you washed it and put a band-aid on it, but Harry needed a band-aid for his whole back.

Silently Dudley crept around the house gathering supplies. He grabbed a rag and soap from the cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink, then filled a bowl with water and put it beside the door to the cupboard. Then he went back upstairs and grabbed all the band-aids he could find. After getting back downstairs, he wet the cloth and wiped the dried blood from Harry’s back. After he was finished, he put soap in the water like he had seen Harry do when the other boy washed scrubbed the floors. He dipped the rag in again and carefully began trying to clean the cuts. Harry moaned in his sleep and jerked a bit under his hands, but he didn’t come fully awake. After Dudley had done his best, he put as many band-aids on Harry’s back as he could. He focused on getting the deeper cuts covered. Lastly, he left some bread and water hidden inside the cupboard for Harry when he woke.

Things only got worse from there. When Vernon got passed over for promotion because of his deal gone wrong, he started drinking, and Harry’s beatings became harsher and more frequent. By this time, Dudley had looked up all he could about treating wounds in the school library and bought gauze and copious amounts of antibiotic ointments with his allowance money.

Harry and Dudley didn’t talk about the beatings. The one time Dudley tried, Harry pushed him away. Harry also made it very clear that he didn’t want Dudley stepping in; it would be dangerous and just make things worse for both of them. Even though it hurt Dudley to watch his cousin go through so much pain, they both kept to this plan.

Then one night, Dudley snapped. He had been doing the breathing exercises Hannah taught him and trying to regulate his anger, but he was losing control.

His father was drunk again. Harry was in the kitchen on his knees cleaning up a broken bottle with his bare hands. Blood was mixed in with the cleaning supplies. His father was ranting about various things until he came upon his favorite topic: how freakish Harry was. Dudley kept shooting glances in Harry’s direction, but the boy seemed to be trying to tune out the abuse.

“You’re lucky we let you live here you little freak. Earning your keep is the least you can do. Bloody menace, never grateful for anything. Put clothes on his back, don’t I? DON’T I, BOY?” Vernon shouted. “Answer me when I’m talking to you, boy!” Vernon stumbled over to where Harry was, and his beefy hands pulled the boy into a standing position. He pushed the scrawny boy into the wall and held him there with a fist around his neck. With the other hand, he pulled at his belt, seemingly having forgotten his son was in the room. 

Dudley couldn’t take it anymore. His hand reached out instinctively to stop his father from swinging the belt, and then it was suddenly in his hand. Dudley was dumbfounded as he stared at the belt. He had wanted it to be out of his father’s hand, and then it was. It was magic; like all those times Harry made weird things happen. Dudley prayed his father was drunk enough that he wouldn’t understand what had happened. He didn’t get his wish.

His father stared at him with a mixture of awe and disgust. Then he turned back to Harry. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BOY?” he yelled. Dudley thought they might have been able to hear him in London. Vernon was more purple and angrier than Dudley had ever seen him. “You’ve infected him with your freakishness!” His hand squeezed tighter around Harry’s throat.

“Dad, stop!” Dudley screamed. The lights flickered around him as his anger exploded. “Leave him alone!” He shoved his father as hard as he could, but even as big and strong as he was, his father was still bigger and stronger.

Vernon managed to get a hold of his belt again. “He’s infected you! We swore when we took him in, we’d stamp it out, but I never thought-” Vernon seemed to think for a second then he grabbed Dudley by his hair and led both boys upstairs to Dudley’s second bedroom. He glanced apologetically at his son once before saying, “It’s for your own good. He’s infected you. I’m going to have to beat it out of both of you.” He pushed the boys into the wall, and Dudley felt the first crack of his father’s belt come down on his shoulders. He yelped. The next swing was directed at Harry, but the boy only grunted. On and on it went Vernon alternating between them. Both boys had fallen to their knees at some point, and when his father finally grew tired, they lay together on the floor of his second bedroom, breathing heavily. The last thing Dudley heard before he passed out was a quiet “I’m sorry,” from Harry.

Dudley slowly realized that some of the weird things they had always chalked up to Harry had been himself. Like the dinner party, every outburst had happened when Dudley thought he would explode with anger. This caused Dudley to feel incredibly guilty. Harry had been punished severely for that night, and it wasn’t even his fault. Dudley was convinced that Harry would’ve been fine if Dudley hadn’t messed up the dinner so severely. It was all his fault. Even after all the years of trying to protect Harry at school, he had been the cause of the worst of his pain.

Dudley withdrew into himself after that. Hannah repeatedly tried to get answers out of him, but she was unsuccessful. She subtly tried to get him to open up about his home life, something he had never done before, but to no avail.

For his part, Harry was determined not to lose Dudley. As awful as things were at home, Dudley was a ray of hope in the darkness. Dudley was proof that someone could like him, if not love him. He was all Harry had, and he wasn’t sure he could survive without him.

Harry told him so at recess one day; well, more screamed it at him, really. Harry wasn’t angry like Dudley was, moody and withdrawn sure, but rarely did he have angry outbursts. He held most of his emotions close to his chest and pushed them down when he couldn’t deal with them. So when he screamed at Dudley, Dudley knew it was serious.

“I don’t give two bloody farts whose fault it is, Lee! If it’s you, or me, I don’t care. I just can’t do this anymore! I’m sorry for my part,” then more quietly, he added, “I need you, Lee. I can’t do this without you. Please don’t leave me.”

The boys hugged long and hard and vowed never to let Vernon come between them. They decided that as much as Dudley trusted Hannah, they wouldn’t tell her about what was going on. They knew that they would be taken away from the Dursleys, and while that would be a blessing, they had also heard horror stories from the foster kids in their school. They also knew it was likely they would be separated, and neither wanted that. They started to form secret plans. Harry looked into emancipation at the local library, and while it seemed like it would be a hard road, he knew it was doable. And when no one was looking, they hung out, read, played video games, and generally enjoyed each other’s company. Dudley even shared Harry’s chores and found a love for gardening. The front lawn became a place of peace for them both; Harry rested and talked to Dudley and the wandering snakes that came through the garden while his cousin weeded and tended lovingly to his mother’s plants. All they had was each other, and they wouldn’t take that for granted.

For Dudley’s eleventh birthday, all he wanted was to go to the zoo. Dudley loved animals ever since Harry got him encyclopedias with all the different species, and he loved looking at all the pictures of exotic creatures. He liked to imagine what he would do if he were a tiger or a flamingo. The only thing that could make the day better was if Harry could tag along with him, but his cousin was set to spend the day at Ms. Figg’s house. Harry always came home smelling strongly of cats after he spent the day there. His parents had tried to get him to invite a friend along, but the only person he was close to besides Harry was Hannah. Sure, some of the guys on his wrestling team were decent, but he didn’t hang out with any of them outside of practice.

For once though, Dudley got his wish. Ms. Figg had broken her leg and needed to go to the doctor to get it looked at, so she couldn’t watch Harry. His parents were less than pleased. They debated the idea of just leaving him in the car, but Vernon decided Harry would most likely damage it if he left Harry alone. Dudley was thankful for that decision. It had been a hot summer, and the news had carried stories of kids dying while being locked in hot cars. 

That’s how Dudley and Harry found themselves looking at lions and tigers, orangutans and gorillas, toucans and peacocks, with Harry helping Dudley read the plaques outside their enclosures. They stopped for ice cream pops, and before Vernon could pay, the lady asked Harry what he wanted. When they sat down to lunch, Dudley deliberately threw a fit about the size of his knickerbocker glory so Harry could have the one he didn’t finish.

When Harry asked Dudley to go into the reptile house, he wasn’t happy about it. Dudley had been scared of snakes ever since the incident when he was five. But Harry loved snakes, and the pleading Dudley saw in his cousin’s eyes convinced him to face his fears.

As they entered the temperature-controlled room, his father went to the loo leaving Dudley and Harry alone with his mother. She seemed to be repulsed by the reptiles. She kept close to the wall, so Dudley and Harry were left to their own devices. 

The room was filled wall to wall with glass tanks: some held snakes, others frogs, and even a few lizards and newts. The boys methodically made their way through pausing to read about every animal they saw. 

When they were far enough away from his mother, Dudley turned to Harry, “You know, you never actually told me what you said to the snake that day.”

Harry didn’t need clarification on which day Dudley was talking about. “Oh, well, I just told it not to hurt you,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

“But, why? You had every right to hate me.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t actually want you to die. Plus, a small part of me knew I would get blamed for it if you did. So, I told the snake to back down. He did argue with me a bit,” Harry paused to huff out a laugh, “He knew you were being mean to me somehow, and he wanted to protect me.”

“Huh, that’s weird. I wonder why he knew. Just for the record though, I think it’s pretty cool you can talk to snakes.”

Harry shrugged, “Thanks.”

With his newfound knowledge, Dudley felt more relaxed with Harry at his side. Most of the snakes weren’t awake, so Harry and Dudley just stared at them. Harry didn’t want to disturb them. As they made their way around the room, their attention was drawn to a boy about their age poking at the glass and screaming, “Make it move!” The boys turned their heads to watch the commotion and saw that the boy was trying to annoy a boa constrictor into stirring. After the boy left unsatisfied, Harry and Dudley approached the tank. The boa constrictor had its eyes closed, but Harry could tell it was awake. Who wouldn’t be after that ordeal?

_ “I’m sorry about him,”  _ Harry hissed to the snake,  _ “It must be annoying having your cage poked every day.” _

The boa constrictor perked up at this.  _ “A speaker? I haven’t ever met one but some of the wild snakes talk about them.” _

“What’s he saying?” Dudley whispered.

“He’s saying there are other people like me,”

“Really?” Dudley asked at the same time the snake hissed,  _ “Who is the other two-legged? Is he a speaker?” _

_ “Oh, no, that’s my cousin, Dudley. He can’t speak snake. Are there really other people out there who can talk to snakes?” _

_ “There used to be more, but yes hatchling, you are not alone.” _

Harry smiled at that. Even though it appeared that Dudley could make the same weird stuff happen, he couldn’t talk to snakes. It was nice to know that other people shared his abilities.

Unfortunately, Harry and Dudley’s conversation with the snake was cut short. Vernon reappeared from the bathroom, and upon seeing what Harry was doing with the snake, he began to berate him. 

“What do you think you’re doing, freak?” he hissed at Harry. It was obvious he was trying not to make a scene. “Are you trying to shame our family?”

Harry whipped around at Vernon’s voice and backed up into the tank, “N-no, sir.”

“Then why would you even consider ta-talking to a snake?” He could barely get the words out; they were so vile to him. “You can best believe there will be hell to pay at home. You can expect you won’t be coming out of your cupboard until September!”

Dudley was starting to feel angry, and worse, frightened for his cousin. He knew what “hell to pay” meant.

“No,” Dudley said clearly, “That won’t be happening.”

Harry shot him a warning glance. There was fear in his eyes for himself and his cousin.

“What did you say to me boy?” Vernon rounded on his son.

“I said, you won’t be locking Harry up in his cupboard.” 

Vernon reached out to grab Dudley by his shirt. “I had hoped I’d beaten this foolishness out of you but-” He was interrupted by the glass behind them shattering and the boa constrictor came slithering out of his cage. Glass continued to break as Dudley screamed, “No! Don’t touch me! You don’t get to touch me!” Soon all the snakes and lizards and frogs were escaping. Some paused to nip at Vernon’s ankles, but it wasn’t until a king cobra slithered up and began hissing at the large man that he finally dropped his son. The king cobra kept hissing at him and proceeded to chase him out of the reptile house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dudley and Harry recieve mail and get a giant surpise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than I would like but I wanted to give you all an update! The next chapter should be much longer.  
> Edited 7/29/2020: Just some polishing. Nothing major.

####  **Chapter Two:**

The incident in the reptile house made the news. Unfortunately for Harry and Dudley, Vernon was not bitten by the king cobra. Instead, they were both sent to their rooms, and both went without food. Vernon told Dudley that, since beating the “freak” out him hadn’t worked, he would have to starve it out of him. After a week of water and stale bread fed to him every other day through a cat flap his father installed in his door, Dudley had a new appreciation for Harry’s forbearance while living in this house. If he wasn’t afraid of his father’s retaliation, he was sure he would have throttled the beefy man for his abuse. 

It took maneuvering and skill, but Dudley finally learned how to pick the lock on his bedroom door. When he was sure his parents were asleep, he crept down to the kitchen and unlocked Harry’s cupboard. He wished he could say he was surprised at the state he found his cousin in, but too much history had passed between them. The cupboard smelled of urine and blood. It was all Dudley could do not to gag; even after all these years, he could never get used to the smell. It was apparent that while Dudley had been starved in his room, his cousin had been flogged on several occasions. Some cuts were almost healed, but others were still bloody and raw. Dudley’s heart panged with guilt. He should have been able to protect his cousin- no brother, their bond had grown that strong- from his horrible father. Had he gotten out of his room sooner, he may have been able to prevent more scarring.

Knowing the drill, Dudley gathered his supplies and pulled his brother up to the bathroom. They stumbled, Harry half-conscious, up the stairs. Dudley grabbed a washcloth and began rub Harry down with soapy water. Halfway through, Harry began to wake up fully.

“No,” he croaked. Dudley stopped immediately, worried he was hurting Harry. “Don’t clean me off too much, Lee, they can’t know we’ve been out.”

As much as Dudley hated to admit it, Harry was right. Their punishments would only be worse if Vernon suspected Dudley was helping Harry. He resumed his cleaning but only enough to get the foul stench off his brother. When it seemed Harry would be okay on his own, Dudley went downstairs to dig through the fridge for something that wouldn’t be missed. He came back with a half-rotten apple and two pieces of slightly moldy bread. He took two bites of the bread and then gave the rest to Harry. The smaller boy ate it record time, coveting the food as if it were gold and jewels.

After Harry’s initial demand, they didn’t speak. Both were too afraid of being overheard. They sat in a warry, but not wholly uncomfortable, silence. When they were both too tired to keep their eyes open, they retreated to their beds. Their eyes met and held the promise of another meeting the next night.

They spent the next few nights passing notes, in lieu of speaking, and scrounging for food. Sometimes they couldn’t find any food to take that wouldn’t arouse suspicion, but they always spent the night together. They needed the company. 

Eventually, they were let out. Dudley first, but Harry followed soon after, so he could do chores. The house had become considerably dirty without Harry there to tidy up after everyone. It was as if his mother had forgotten how to clean since Harry had come to stay with them. Dudley made a point to clean as much as possible before Harry was allowed out. Between chores, the boys spent most of their time as far away from Number Four as they could get. They haunted the old playground and roamed the streets trying to avoid Piers and his gang.

This summer was bittersweet for both of them. Next year Dudley would be going to Smeltings while Harry attended the local high school, Stonewall. Harry was happy that he might have a chance to start anew, especially since Piers was following Dudley to Smeltings. Dudley was mostly worried about how his cousin would fare without him.

The day after Dudley had gone to get his uniform, one they could both agree was not flattering at all, Dudely found his mother dyeing old clothes gray. When he asked, she informed him they were Harry’s new school uniform. He plugged his nose and sat down to breakfast, not wanting to think about how Harry would look on his first day. So much for a new start. Dudley flashed his cousin a sympathetic look before the other boy turned to make breakfast.

His father had just sat down to his coffee and paper when they heard the mail slot flap open.

“Go get the mail boy,” his father barked at Harry.

“I can’t; I’m cooking. The bacon’ll burn,” Harry looked pleadingly at Dudley.

“I’ll get it,” he said and stood up before his father could protest.

Dudley retrieved the mail and began to flip through it. There was a letter from his infernal aunt Marge, an electricity bill, and a reminder that his mother was due for a teeth cleaning soon. He was about to make his way back to the kitchen, but the letter at the bottom of the mail pile stopped him cold. It had come addressed to Harry, but not just to him, to his cupboard under the stairs. Flipping through the rest of the mail, Dudley saw that he had a similar letter addressed in the same green ink as Harry’s. His was addressed to the second-largest bedroom.

“What’s taking so long?” Vernon hollered. 

Dudley came scrambling back into the kitchen, trying to hide the letters in the process. “Sorry, Dad,” he muttered.

His attempt at hiding them was unsuccessful.

“What’ve you got there? Why are you trying to hide it?” The man looked curiously at the envelope, attempting to get a better look.

“No, it’s ours!” Dudley winced at his slip.

“Ours? You and the boy? Who would be writing to him?” His father grabbed the letter out of his hands. Dudley expected his face to turn purple with rage, but instead, all the color drained out of it. “Pe-petunia? It’s them,” he held the letter out to her. 

Petunia dropped the clothes she was holding. “Oh!” she screeched, “And Dudley has one too!” The woman looked as if she was going to faint.

“We have to do something about it,” Vernon said, “I promised myself this wouldn’t happen, especially not to our boy.” His face had now taken on a green tint as if he were about to be ill. 

“You two!” Petunia rounded on the boys, “Get out of the kitchen! Shoo!”

They were pushed out of the room, and the door slammed closed behind them. Dudley put his eye up to the keyhole while Harry tried to listen through the crack between the door and the floor. The conversation they heard didn’t make much sense. Vernon and Petunia seemed to be under the impression that they were being followed and spied on, probably because the letter had been addressed to Harry’s cupboard. Young though they were, Harry and Dudley were aware that normal children didn’t sleep in cupboards. It seemed as though his mother wanted to write back to the sender, perhaps to dissuade them from taking any action against their family, but his father opted to ignore it.

Vernon ripped open the door, and the boys had to scramble back to try to pretend they hadn’t been listening.

“You!” He pointed at Harry, “Move your things. You’re taking Dudley’s second bedroom. Go and stay there! Don’t make me regret giving it to you. And you,” he pointed at Dudley, “go to your room!”

Dudley helped Harry as he scrambled to get his stuff and put it in Dudley’s second bedroom. The room looked as if it belonged to a hoarder. It was littered with things that no longer fit in Dudley’s room: broken toys, books he had already read, an old cage that once held a hamster, and broken game controllers. Harry didn’t have much stuff, so it was easy to make space for his things. Upon returning to his room, Dudley threw himself on his bed and sighed as he heard the telltale sound of his father locking his door. Someone had wanted to reach him and Harry, and now he’d never know who.

\----

The next morning Vernon got the mail himself. When he returned to the kitchen, he waved the mail at Petunia, “Another one!” He cried and immediately ripped up two of the letters he was holding. The boys were sent to their rooms without supper. Dudley managed to ignore his rumbling stomach as hope filled his chest. Whoever wanted to talk to them wasn’t going to stop trying. 

Sneaking into the kitchen that night, the boys made a plan. If the sender was going to keep trying to reach them, and his father was going to keep destroying the letters, Dudley and Harry would just have to get to the mail first. They decided to wake up early and wait on the street until the postman came.

Early the next morning, they put their plan into action. Dudley’s alarm went off at six o’clock, and he went to wake up his cousin. The house was pitch black, and as Dudley went to open the front door, he stepped on something squishy. To his horror, it was his father’s face. Dudley jumped ten feet in the air after realizing what he’d done. Both boys got an ear full, and Harry was told to make breakfast. Dudley watched as the mail was delivered right into his father’s lap and swiftly torn up. The man proceeded to nail up the mail slot. 

Over the next few days, the situation only escalated. Letters were found in strange places, like the milk; they were stuffed under the door and through windows. Dudley was surprised his father hadn’t taken off his belt once, but he supposed if his parents thought they were being watched, they wouldn’t want to give the surveyors any cause to intervene. 

They all thought it would be over on Sunday. As Vernon was happily telling them, the post didn’t come on Sundays. But they were all wrong. Dozens of letters came whizzing into the living room through the chimney at breakfast. Both boys tried desperately to catch one but were thrown out by Vernon and Petunia.

After the beefy man had sealed off the living room, he turned to his family, “Pack. Immediately. I want to be ready to leave in five minutes. No arguments, just do it!”

The family was all piled into the car after ten minutes, and Vernon started driving. Dudley had no idea where they were going. His father seemed to be driving aimlessly. A few times, he got out of the car and looked around only to get back in and keep driving. He kept muttering things like “gotta throw ‘em off,” and “if they can’t find him, they can’t take him.” Dudley wanted to talk to Harry about what was going on, but he wouldn’t dare risk speaking when his father was so volatile. Dudley was anxious the entire ride. After the longest day Dudley could remember, they stopped in a hotel for the night. Dudley and Harry shared a dingy room, but neither noticed their surroundings. Flopping onto their twin beds, they finally had time to talk about what was going on.

“You said it had our bedrooms on it?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, it had your cupboard and my bedroom,” Dudley explained.

“How could they know something like that?” Harry questioned.

“Maybe Dad was right, and they’re spying on us. But what could they want?”

“I dunno, but if they knew about my cupboard, do they know about everything else? And if so, why didn’t they do anything about it before? They obviously want to talk to us enough.” 

Dudley hadn’t thought about it that way, though Harry had a point. “What if that’s why they’re trying to get us? Is that why Dad was saying those things about finding us and taking us?”

“If they were trying to take us, why put it in a letter? Why not come in person? I don’t know, Lee. I don’t like it,” Harry grimaced.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Dudley replied. He sincerely hoped Harry was wrong.

Both boys quieted down after that, but neither slept well. 

\----

In the morning at breakfast, Harry and Dudley got even more letters. They had been shipped to the hotel and had their room number on them. When the clerk came over to alert them, Vernon quickly stood up and disposed of them.

They drove even more that day; Vernon continued to get out of the car and mutter to himself. They had reached the coast and couldn’t go any farther. Vernon parked and left the rest of them in the car. It felt like ages before he came back. He was smiling the manic smile he sometimes wore when he was really drunk.

“Come on; I’ve found the perfect place!” He exclaimed. 

His father’s “perfect place” was a hut on a rock in the middle of the ocean. Dudley wouldn’t have been keen on staying there on a normal day, but as it was a dismal English day with strong winds and the threat of heavy rain, he was even less excited to be venturing out into open waters. A glance at the rest of his family told him he wasn’t alone in his thinking.

Dudley was surprised they made it to the hut in one piece. It was a dark and damp place, with a bare fireplace. Dudley tried to find something to keep them warm but could only come up with three thin, ragged blankets. Vernon had only brought chips along with him for sustenance, though he had remembered his bourbon. As Harry and Dudley were used to going hungry, Dudley had made sure to steal some toast and water from breakfast.

There was a bed in an adjoining room for Petunia and Vernon, and a moth-eaten sofa which the boys tried to share. The couch wasn’t made for two people, but it was warmer next to each other than it would have been elsewhere. Still, they couldn’t sleep. They sat up passing the toast and water between them. The expected storm had started up a few hours ago, and wind rocked the hut violently.

“Harry,” Dudley said suddenly, “I just realized. It’s Monday.”

“And...?”

“Well, your birthday’s tomorrow, isn’t it?” Dudley reminded him.

“Oh, you’re right. I hadn’t even thought of it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t think of it. Your present’s at home,” Dudley admitted ruefully.

“We had five minutes to pack, Lee, under threat of Vernon. I wouldn’t expect you to remember my birthday present. I’m more thankful you remembered food,” Harry bit off a piece of toast.

“Still, I wish it wasn’t like this,” Harry knew Dudley was talking about more than just his birthday.

“Let’s stay up then and count the minutes like it’s new years,” Harry suggested. So that’s what they did. By the time eleven o’clock rolled around, their rations were half-eaten, the rest set aside for tomorrow. The storm seemed to get worse as Harry’s birthday drew nearer. A particularly harsh clap of thunder had the boys jumping. Then there were two minutes to go. A creak and a crunching noise could be heard—one minute to go. The boys quietly counted down out loud. “Three, two, one!”

Dudley was poised to say “happy birthday,” when the door to the hut burst open and fell off its hinges. There, standing in the doorway, was the biggest man Dudley had ever seen, and he lived with Vernon, who was all beef. Vernon came skidding into the room with a rifle-- when had his father gotten one of those?-- and pointed it at the overly large man. “I’m armed!” He screamed redundantly.

The giant either hadn’t heard him or didn’t care. He squeezed into the hut and went straight for the boys on the sofa. They both backed away, Harry scrambling backward off the couch. “There yeh are, Harry! An’ this mus’ be Dudley. Have ter say I was surprised at seein’ his name on the list fer Hogwarts,” 

“Er, what?” Dudley asked.

“I forbid you to tell them anything!” Vernon made his presence known again by waving the gun around the hut. Dudley fell to the floor and retreated to where Harry was, afraid the gun would go off accidentally. The giant grabbed it out of his father’s hands and bent it in half. He discarded it next to the fireplace.

Dudley and Harry stared in shock at the giant’s strength. He felt a small prickling of fear shudder down his spine as he realized how much the gigantic man could hurt them if he turned hostile. Next to him, there was a look of calculation on his brother’s face. He had seen the look when Harry was trying to discern how much trouble they would be in the did something against the rules at home or school.

The huge man turned back toward the boys. “Sorry, I haven’t introduced meself properly, name’s Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Oh, an’ I have a cake here fer yeh somewhere,” the man, Hagrid, put down the pink umbrella he was holding and reached around in his pockets to pull out a birthday cake.

Harry ignored the cake in favor of questioning Hagrid, “Er, not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here?” He asked.

“And what’s Hogwarts?” Dudley chimed in.

“Yeh don’ know about Hogwarts? I knew yeh weren’t gettin’ yer letters, but I didn’ think...” He paused awhile and considered his next question. “Do yeh know anythin’ about our world?” He looked between the two boys.

“Well, I have been to school. I know about history and stuff,” Dudley protested. He knew some people took him for a big, dumb jock, but his improving marks were a point of pride. He worked hard to achieve his grades. 

However, this didn’t seem to be the answer Hagrid wanted to hear. He rounded on Vernon and Petunia, “Yer meanin’ ter tell me these boys don’ know anythin’ about magic?”

“We do not say that word!” Vernon screamed, “I forbid you to say anything else!”

“Try an’ stop me, Dursley,” Hagrid growled, “Harry, Dudley, yer wizards.”

“We’re what?” Dudley sputtered, caught completely off guard. He expected a strange explanation for the events of the past week, but it definitely hadn’t been that. “But wizards aren’t- they aren’t real. They’re only in kids books and TV shows.”

“They’re real alrigh,’” Hagrid replied, “Ever had anything weird happen that yeh couldn’t explain?” When both boys nodded, he continued, “Thought so. You were doin’ magic yeh jus’ didn’ know it. Now, lemme give you yer letters,” He pulled two envelopes out of his coat and handed them to the boys. They contained identical acceptance letters to a school called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and a supply list for what they would need that school year.

“They’re not going! I won’t have one in my house! Said we’d stamp it out of him, and now he’s infected my boy!” Dudley was convinced his father didn’t know when to shut up.

“You knew?” Dudley roared, “You knew about Harry and never told him? Never told me, your own son?”

“Knew?!” His mother screeched, adding her voice to the mix, “Of course we knew! Your aunt got a letter just like that one, and then she went to that school, and my parents loved her for it. But I saw her for what she was! A freak!”

“My mother was a witch?” Harry asked quietly.

“And your father too!” Petunia answered, “Got involved in nasty stuff and then got themselves killed, and we got stuck with you! Annoying freak that you are! I should have never let you around my son!”

“You said they died in a car crash!” Harry accused. 

“A car crash!” Hagrid yelled, “Lily and James weren’ killed in a car crash! They was murdered in cold blood by the wors’ dark wizard of our time!” When no one moved to interrupt him he asked, “You don’t know the story, do you?” Both boys shook their heads.

Hagrid continued on, “His name was- oh I don’ like sayin’ it- Voldemort,” Hagrid shuddered, “But people call him You-Know-Who. Times were bad, families turnin’ on each other. Yer parents were fightin’ agains’ him. Then one night he turns up where you were livin’ an’ he- he killed ‘em.” The giant had to pause to pull a handkerchief out and wipe his eyes. “Knew ‘em well, yer parents, good people they were.” Hagrid blew his nose loudly. “But it was myst’ry see, he tried to kill you bu’ he couldn’ and that’s how yeh got the scar on yer forehead. Yer famous fer it, Harry, no one survives the killin’ curse. But you did. And even more mysterious, You-Know-Who vanished that night. Yer a hero in our world.”

Dudley could tell Harry was having a hard time trying to process all this information. Harry’s face was completely blank, projecting indifference, but in his eyes, Dudley could see a mix of confusion, grief, anger, and fear. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to be told that not only you were a part of a world you never knew existed, but you were famous, too.

“I’m not paying,” Vernon bit out, “I won’t have my son learning hocus pocus from some old fool!”

“Don’t yeh dare insult Dumbledore in front of me!” Hagrid swished his pink umbrella at Vernon, and the man sprouted a pink curly tail. He gave a shriek and ran into the other room, hands covering his bottom. Petunia let out a squeak and followed after him. The door to the bedroom slammed firmly shut behind them. 

Hagrid seemed to relax a bit now that the adults were out of sight. “Now,” he said, turning back to the dumbstruck boys, “It’s gettin’ late an’ I think we should all get some sleep before tomorrow,” He sat down on the couch the boys had vacated.

“What’s tomorrow?” Harry spoke up. His voice was level, but his eyes still held the same emotions as before.

“We’re headed to get yer school things,” Hagrid yawned. His eyes closed, and snores filled the room.

Harry and Dudley looked at each other. They grabbed the blankets and huddled together, but both their minds were reeling—fat chance of sleeping now.

at chance of sleeping now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dudley and Harry visit Diagon Alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter three! First glimpse of Dudley and Harry in the wizarding world. I promise the next chapter will have them going to Hogwarts. As always, this isn't betaed so the grammatical errors are all mine. If you see anything glaring please tell me so I can go back and fix. And of course comment, kudo, and tell me your thoughts!
> 
> Edited 7/29/2020: No major edits just revised clarification issues.

Dudley and Harry did eventually get some sleep, though it was made even harder by Hagrid’s snores. They were woken by a pecking noise coming from the window. Dudley noticed the sound first, and when he opened the window to get a better look, a giant owl swooped in and dropped what seemed to be a newspaper on the floor. Harry scooped it up hesitantly and began to inspect it. Meanwhile, the bird started its pecking again, this time at Hagrid’s pockets.

The giant grumbled, “He wants payin’. Give him some of the little brown coins.”

Dudley obliged, and the bird flew back out the window.

Soon after, Hagrid woke fully and breakfasted on some sausages he found in one of his many pockets. He offered them to the boys, but they were worried about eating questionable unrefrigerated sausages, proffered to them from the strange giant’s pocket. Hence, they stuck to their water and toast. Harry was sneaking glances at the paper the entire time. Afterward, the three found themselves rowing back to shore on the way to get their school supplies. Hagrid unfolded the paper, finally giving Dudley a good look at it. He was fascinated by the moving pictures, but their effect made it harder for him to read the words underneath.

Soon enough, they made landfall and took a train to the heart of London. Hagrid led them through crowded streets until they found themselves outside of a pub called “The Leaky Cauldron.” It wasn’t the sort of establishment one would typically find in this part of London.

“Can yeh see it?” Hagrid asked Dudley skeptically.

Dudley looked at Harry. What was the giant talking about? Of course, he could see the pub. It stuck out like a sore thumb. Then he looked around and saw that no passersby even glanced at the pub.

“You do mean the pub?” Dudley asked.

“Hmph,” Hagrid muttered and nodded. He muttered something about making sure the boy was magical before he pushed inside. Dudley wasn’t sure what he meant, but Harry seemed irritated by the comment.

“-On Hogwarts business,” They caught the tail end of the conversation Hagrid was having with the bartender. The door clanged shut behind them, and everyone turned to stare at the boys. Dudley was confused until he realized Harry’s bangs had been swept up on his forehead to reveal the lightning bolt scar.

“Is that Harry Potter?” The bartender asked.

It started a mad dash toward the boys. Everyone stood up to shake Harry’s hand. The smaller boy stood very stiffly as everyone clutched at his hand and thanked him with admiration in their eyes. Dudley could see Harry flinch every time someone approached him. After their stuttering defense professor came up, Dudley decided to put a stop to it. Harry was a person, not one of the tigers on display at the zoo.

“It’s been nice to meet you all,” Dudley spoke up, and everyone startled having forgotten he was there, “But Harry and I must really be going now. We have a lot of shopping to do.”

Hagrid nodded his head and muttered, “Right.”

As Hagrid led them into a back alley and began to tap at the stones on the wall, Harry’s shoulders loosened up, and his tense posture started to fade away. “Thanks,” he whispered to his cousin.

“Any time,” Dudley whispered back.

The bricks in the wall faded away to show a bustling alley. Both boys were dumbstruck at the sight. Everywhere witches and wizards were shopping and conversing about the wares on the street. Everyone was dressed in strange clothing, most wearing pointed hats in different colors. Some of the robes, for that was the only way Dudley could describe them, were more outlandish than the others. He saw an old woman dressed in canary yellow with a bright pink hat on. She was complaining to a younger woman about the outlandish prices of powdered bicorn horn, whatever that was. They were moving toward the end of the alley past all sorts of shops selling things Dudley couldn’t have dreamed existed. 

“Well, firs’ stop is Gringotts,” Hagrid said, bringing the boys out of their stupor. He began to lead them through the crowded avenue.

“Gringotts?” Harry asked, following behind the giant.

“Wizarding bank. Yeh’ll be needing your money,” Hagrid replied.

“My money?” Harry repeated skeptically.

“O’ course! Yeh didn’t think yer parents lef’ ya with nothin’?” Harry was still behind Hagrid, so the giant didn’t see the incredulous look Dudley received from Harry. After his parents complaining about how much Harry cost them, Dudley was quite sure Harry’s parents had died penniless. And besides, Dudley’s father had refused to pay for his own son’s school supplies; there was no way he would have set up a fund in a wizarding bank.

Gringotts was an impressive and imposing building. Dudley and Harry had never seen its like before. Dudley had been to a bank once with his father, but it hadn’t looked as grand as this. While muggle banks seemed to have business as their focus, Gringotts appeared to flaunt its wealth. Gold columns framed the front of the building, and light glinted from the gold ceiling above. Gilded words were carved into the stone at the entrance, but Hagrid shooed them into the bank too quickly for Dudley to read it, the words swimming in front of his eyes. Harry saw his bewilderment and understood.

“It’s a warning against thieves,” Harry whispered, “And a thinly veiled threat of what happens to them.”

Dudley turned to nod his head but stopped mid-motion. As they entered the great hall of the building, his eye caught on the little creatures weighing and measuring gold. They both enticed and scared him. Their long noses seemed to sneer down at him and Harry, with beady eyes hard and piercing.

Hagrid led them to the farthest desk, and Dudley missed the first half of the conversation. He did see Hagrid brandish a key and put it away again.

“...And you-know-what in vault 713,” Hagrid concluded.

Harry, as always, was hanging on to every word. Dudley was immensely grateful nothing seemed to get past his cousin. He’d never had a head for such things; he usually charged into any situation. But Harry’s planning had come in handy numerous times. Dudley looked at Harry, but the other boy shook his head. He knew he would fill him in later.

“Hagrid,” Harry said in a mild but firm manner, “I’ve got a vault, but what about Dudley? I highly doubt Uncle Vernon,” He almost choked on the title, “Would have set up a fund for his son here. And you heard him last night; he insisted he wouldn’t pay.”

“Oh, er, right,” Hagrid mumbled. He turned back to the goblin, “I’ll be needin’ ter get inter the Hogwarts Scholarship Fund vault as well.”

To anyone but Dudley, Harry’s indulgent smile would have seemed genuine. But Dudley sensed the falseness of it. His eyes sparkled with thinly veiled animosity. Dudley understood, he was a bit incensed that Hagrid hadn’t remembered to provide him with funds for his school supplies. Next to Harry, he was entirely forgotten.

They followed a different goblin through a door behind the desk into a stone passageway. A cart sat in front of them, and railroad tracks were laid into the rock. It reminded Dudley of the rollercoasters he’d been on at the amusement park in Surrey.

They all climbed in, and the cart expanded to fit all four of them. They started off, and Dudley had to fight the urge to put his arms up and scream in joy. Beside him, Harry seemed to be in deep thought, and Hagrid looked sick. The cart came to a stop in front of a small door laid into the passageway.

“The Potter Vault,” the goblin announced.

Hagrid stepped out of the cart to allow Harry through. The goblin opened the vault with a touch of his hand. The door swung open, and Dudley’s jaw dropped at what he saw. Heaps of gold, silver, and bronze were piled inside the small room. Harry stepped inside and began to gather up coins in a bag. After a few handfuls, he turned around to face the giant.

“You know Hagrid, I don’t think we need to visit the scholarship vault after all. I think I have enough gold here to cover Dudley and me for quite a few terms.

Dudley’s face went pink with embarrassment and shame, but a stern look from Harry stopped the blood rushing to his checks. His brother would hear none of his protests. However, Hagrid scowled slightly at this but didn’t comment. Harry held out his hand to receive another bag from Hagrid and started to pile more gold into it. When he was done, he climbed back into the cart and handed the second bag to Dudley. 

“Right then, vault 713, and could we go a bit slower please?” asked Hagrid.

“Only one speed,” replied the small creature.

They sped deeper into the underground tunnels, the air becoming steadily colder. At last, they reached the vault, and the goblin rested the palm of his hand against the door once more. But instead of opening as Harry’s vault had done, it melted away. Both boys tried to look in and see what was so important, but the vault was empty save a small parcel. Neither boy asked what was in it.

When they reached the surface again, Hagrid looked greener than ever and made excuses to go back to the Leaky Cauldron for a “pick me up.” Both boys were all too familiar with what that entailed and made no protest. It had never been smart to get in the way of Vernon and his drink. Hagrid suggested they get their robes before he left. Harry steered Dudley toward the shop called Madam Malkins, which proclaimed to have robes for all occasions, but once he was out of sight, the smaller boy changed direction. 

“Where are we going?” asked Dudley.

“Somewhere we can get information,” Harry replied, “I don’t know anything about this world, and I don’t like that. That great oaf hasn’t been too forthcoming either. The most I’ve gleaned has been from this morning’s paper, and I didn’t understand half of what it was talking about.”

They searched until they came upon a sign that read “Flourish and Blotts.” A drawing of a book and quill was painted underneath the words. Looking in, they found a bookshop, and Harry hastily made his way inside.

“What are we looking for?” Dudley inquired.

“Anything that might help us understand what we’ve just walked into. Possibly history books, a book on me might not be a bad idea either.”

“How about this?” Dudley held a copy of a book titled: “ _ Hogwarts: A History. _ ”

“That’s perfect, Lee,” grinned Harry.

They quickly combed through the titles. The boys found the most useful books under a sign marked: “Guides to the Wizarding World for Muggle-borns.” There Dudley learned that muggles were non-magical people, and “muggle-born” referred to wixen born to non-magical parents, like himself. Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Dudley walked out of the store with books on things ranging from Hogwarts, to wizarding etiquette, to quidditch, (apparently a popular sport for wizards), to histories on the first wizarding war. They also purchased a handy bag that would carry all of the tomes, reducing their size and weight. After depositing their purchases into the pouch, Harry stuck it in his pocket. He kept  _ Hogwarts: A History _ in his hand and began to read and walk simultaneously. 

After they stepped away from the store towards the robe shop, a thought occurred to Dudley. “Harry, we didn’t buy any of our school books!”

“It’s okay, Lee. We’ll go back later. I don’t think it would be a good idea to let Hagrid know we went to the bookshop instead of getting our robes,” He returned to reading.

“You think he wants to keep us in the dark?” Dudley asked.

“I’m not sure. Hagrid hasn’t been very forthcoming, and I find it’s always best not to tip your hand too soon. Until we find out more about his motives, I think we should play our cards close to our chests,” his brother explained, “Besides, he wanted us to go to the robe shop, not the bookstore.”

Dudley nodded thoughtfully. Sometimes he thought his brother was too suspicious of everyone, but he could agree they were on uneven footing when it came to this world. And he knew what his father would have done had he found out his charges had disobeyed him. The thought made him shudder, especially when he imagined his with some drink in him. 

They entered the robe shop, and the bell rang behind them. A squat witch popped her head out from behind a curtain, “Hogwarts, dears?” She asked. 

“Yes, we need school robes and new regular wear robes. Perhaps a pair of,” Harry looked at a sign overhead. “dress robes as well. Will it take more than one fitting?” Harry inquired.

“Oh no dear, we can do it all today,”

“Perfect,” Harry smiled. 

The woman led them back to a fitting room occupied by another boy who seemed to be about their age. Dudley immediately took a disliking to him. He reeked of privilege. His slicked-back platinum blonde hair and pointed features added to the haughty way he held himself. His first impression was only reinforced when the boy spoke.

“Hogwarts, too?” He asked, sounding bored.

“Yes,” Harry replied. Dudley merely nodded. Madam Malkin had begun to measure him, and he was more interested in her measuring tape, which moved of its own accord. As he watched, it measured the length of his nostrils and the width of his ears. 

“My father’s out buying my books, and my mother is looking at potion ingredients,” The boy continued, “I doubt we’ll get any from Slug and Jiggers though. My godfather is the potions professor, and he grows all his own ingredients.”

“He must be talented in herbology as well then,” Harry posited.

It seemed to be the right thing to say. “Yes, and Defense against the Dark Arts. I really don’t understand why that old man won’t make him professor.”

“A shame,” Harry sighed, “I met our defense professor earlier today, and he was a stuttering mess. It didn’t seem as though he could fend off an owl, let alone dark creatures.”

Dudley continued to watch as his cousin gathered more and more information from the boy. The blonde was obviously raised by wizards. The other boy was becoming more and more animated as he spoke.

“I just want to go and look at racing brooms. I think it’s a shame first years can’t have our own brooms. Have you seen the new nimbus 2000? I think I’ll bully Father into buying me one and smuggle it in somehow,”

The more the boy talked, the more Dudley was reminded of himself at five before taking a liking to Harry. Was this what he would have grown up to be, a spoiled, privileged brat? The thought unnerved him. Unbidden, the Veruca Salt Oompa Loompa song from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory played in his head. He was suddenly very grateful he had grown so close to his cousin. He couldn’t imagine a life in ignorance.

“Do you play quidditch?” The boy inquired, interrupting Dudley’s thoughts.

“No,” Harry responded.

“You?” The boy asked, finally acknowledging Dudley’s presence.

“No,” He bit out a tad harshly. Harry turned to him with a frown, but his look changed to sympathy when he saw the expression on Dudley’s face.

“Well, I do,” The blonde charged on, oblivious to the other boys’ exchange, “I’m sure I’ll be picked for my house team. Know what house you’ll be in?”

“I expect I won’t know until I get there, will I?” Harry answered evasively.

“I suppose you’re right,” He conceded, “But I’ll be in Slytherin, all my family has been for generations.”

Dudley made a mental note to do anything he could not be placed in Slytherin, especially if all the people in that house would act like the pretentious blonde.

Harry nodded, appearing to be absorbed in thought about this information. “Merlin!” The blonde exclaimed, pointing out the window, “Look at that man!”

Harry and Dudley turned to see Hagrid waving and clutching three large ice creams in his gigantic hands. The blonde seemed to pick up on Hagrid’s focused attention on the two boys. “Do you know him?”

“Yes, that’s Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper,” Harry informed him.

“Oh, Father’s talked about him. He’s a bit of a brute, isn’t he? Always getting drunk and setting his hut on fire?”

Harry and Dudley shared a concerned look. Hagrid had seemed good-natured in the time they had known him if a little prejudiced and oblivious. But it worried them to be around a drunk.

“Is he with you? Where are your parents?”

“They’re dead,” Harry replied. Dudley didn’t want to tell the other boy his father was adamantly against him coming to Hogwarts. He didn’t think it would be well received either.

“Oh, sorry,” the blonde didn’t sound too sympathetic, “But they were  _ our _ kind?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry answered hastily, “But we were raised by muggles.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Harry’s parents were magical, and both boys had been raised by muggles, even if Dudley’s parents were the muggles in question. 

The boy grimaced as if he had seen a particularly disgusting slug.

“Believe me, it was not by choice,” Harry added, sharing a look of disgust. Dudley knew Harry’s disgust was for an entirely different reason than the other boy’s. “Actually, I think it might help us a great deal to know someone like you. Someone raised in  _ our _ culture.”

The boy smiled proudly at that, “Father says they should let the other sort in. You know mud-” He coughed and corrected himself, “Muggleborns. He says they’re just not the same.”

The brat’s voice fell away, but Dudley missed the nervous look the boy cast at his surroundings before he continued, as Dudley felt himself burn with anger. He was fast approaching his limit of bigotry for the day. He couldn’t believe Harry was entertaining the idea of befriending this boy. He was everything they despised. The urge to beat the living daylights out of him was growing as the boy continued on his tirade. Harry kept surreptitiously shooting him worried glances, feeling the tension of magic rise in the room. Just as he thought he would explode, the seamstress announced he and Harry were done. They hastily paid for their purchases and left the shop.

Dudley’s face was beet red as he stepped out onto the street. “That pompous, pretentious, preening prat!” He exclaimed through gritted teeth. “I swear the next time I see him; I’ll sock him straight in the face!”

“Somethin’ wrong?” Hagrid’s joy at buying ice creams deflated.

“We had a less than pleasant conversation with another first year in the robe shop,” replied Harry.

“Wha’ happened?”

“He doesn’t think people like me should be allowed into Hogwarts!” Dudley exploded.

“Ah, mus’ be a blood supremacist. Prob’ly a pure-blood. Don’t you take no heed a wha’ he said. Magic ain’t got nothin’ ter do with blood,” Hagrid handed them both their ice creams. “Now, eat this, it’ll make yeh feel better,”

After munching on his rocky road, Dudley mumbled to Harry, “I still want to punch him.”

“As much as I would like to see you do that, you can’t. And no, Lee,” Harry held his hand up to stop Dudley from interjecting, “It’s not because you’ll get in trouble. We may need him. He’s been the most forthcoming with information. And now we know there’s discord between pure-bloods and muggle-borns. Besides, I think you missed how nervous he was when he started talking about blood.”

Dudley gave Harry a puzzled look.

“He kept saying ‘Father says,’ which doesn’t necessarily mean that he believes it, only that his family does. We might be able to persuade him.” 

Dudley wasn’t happy with the assessment, but he could admit that Harry was right; they needed someone with information.

\----

They spent the rest of their shopping looking for potions ingredients, grabbing their actual school books, and looking at the racing brooms the blonde boy had mentioned. Hagrid seemed to perk up at Dudley’s interest in books on magical creatures and took a friendlier approach to the boy after that. Harry discreetly picked up some scar cream and healing potions from the apothecary. It seemed to move smoothly from there until they walked into Olivander’s. Immediately, the boys could sense a change in the atmosphere. For one, the shop was not as well kept as the others. Dust had settled on the two chairs that sat facing the counter, and the only light filtered through grimy windows. The bell that announced their presence startled them. A man with white hair, who could only be Mr. Olivander himself, walked out from the back of the shop to attend them.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” He greeted, “I was wondering when I’d see you in my shop.”

As before, Dudley could feel the unease radiating off his brother as the man spoke to him. It was a wonder that Harry could stand a conversation with that blond prat and not flinch but become uneasy when confronted with an ornery wandmaker.

“Yes,” Dudley interrupted, “We’re glad to be getting our wands. So, how do we go about this?”

“Well, the wand chooses the wizard Mr...” The man searched for his name.

“Dursley, Dudley Dursley. I’m Harry’s cousin,” The bigger boy supplied.

“Ah, yes, I thought I saw some of Lily in you,” The old man replied. Both boys perked up at this. Dudley was surprised the man could sense anything of his aunt in him. “It’s your magic, young man,” He supplied, “It reacts in a similar way. Hmmm... I wonder,” He left to go in the back. When he returned, he held a long box in his hand. “Try this,” He offered the bigger boy.

Dudley took the wand, but Olivander immediately took it back. “No, not quite,” He muttered.

The process continued for a little while until Dudley held one, and he could feel the magic light up in his bones. If there had been any doubt that he was a wizard, it was gone now.

“10 1/2 inches, cedarwood with a unicorn hair core. Swishy, just like Lily’s. You, like your aunt, seem to be very open to change,” A strange sort of smile graced the man’s lips. “Now for you, Mr. Potter.” The same process continued for Harry until he connected with a holly and phoenix feather wand.

“Ah, very curious. The phoenix that gave the feather for that wand gave only one other feather. Curious because its brother gave you that scar,” The man pointed at Harry’s forehead and just like that he was back to being creepy again. Dudley grabbed the coin and hurriedly paid, all but dragging Harry out of the shop.

“Are you okay?” Dudley asked once they were outside.

“Just a bit unsettled,” Harry replied, but Dudley could tell he was more than unsettled. He couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to own the brother wand of the one that killed his parents.

“Olivander’s always bin a bit strange,” Hagrid commented, “Good wandmaker, though. How abou’ we go ter see abou’ gettin’ you two pets, eh?”

The walked to Eelops Owl Emporium. Harry coveted the snakes, but Hagrid was adamant, only owls, cats, and toads were allowed. Harry decided on a beautiful snowy owl he named Hedwig. It was the logical choice getting a useful animal, but Dudley didn’t have anyone to send letters to, so he decided to adopt a beautiful black kitten he was informed was half Kneazle. He named her Hecate after the Greek goddess of witchcraft; if he was going to get a black cat as a wizard, he might as well go the full monty.

The day ended on a high note, each boy enraptured with their new pet. Both Hecate and Hedwig seemed to get along, which was a huge relief. Hagrid accompanied them on the tube and then to the bus that would take them back to Surrey.

“Now before we go, I need ter tell yeh, yeh can’ use magic outside school. Gotta wait ter use yer wands,” Hagrid told the boys. “I also need ter give yeh these.” He held out to train tickets. “Fer the Hogwarts Express. Leaves at eleven o’clock sharp. Just’ stick to yer tickets, and you should be fine. I’ll see yer both when you get there.”

Harry and Dudley weren’t excited to walk back into the mess waiting for them at number four Privet Drive, but they had a newfound sense of hope they hadn’t felt in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did actually look into cores and wand woods if anyone wants to look up the significance of Dudley's wand.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dudley and Harry start their journey to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, guys! I'm so excited about the feedback I've received so far. Thanks for all your comments and kudos! I've loved everyone's guesses about Dudley.  
> So I know I promised Hogwarts in this chapter but it turned out to be longer than I expected so I decided to split the original chapter in two. There will actually be Hogwarts next chapter!  
> As always I have no beta so all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Edited as of 7/29/2020: Major change- I took out the ending scene in Harry's POV. In the first drafts, I had plans to do more POV shifts as the story went on but then it just worked for it to stay in Dudley's POV the whole time. I didn't feel like it fit with the story anymore.

Neither boy had any illusion about returning home. They were greeted by a very irate, very drunk Vernon Dursely, and had they not had the foresight to keep their wands readily available, Dudley was sure his father’s angry words would have been painful cuts. As it was, both Dudley and Harry threatened to hex him six ways to Sunday if he tried to do anything. Subsequently, they were left to their own devices for the rest of the summer, and unfortunately for Dudley, that meant they spent most of their time reading. Over the years, Dudley had worked out a rhythm to reading new texts and calming the dance letters always did before his eyes. It took him longer, but he found he read more thoroughly than his other classmates because of the time he spent. Wizarding texts were different, however. Not only was there different jargon and common phrases, there seemed to be a different language altogether. It was especially bad when Dudley tried to pour over his  _ Standard Book of Spells: Grade One _ and  _ A History of Magic _ . Harry told him it was because the incantations were rooted in Latin, and the historic goblins’ names could throw anyone for a loop. Privately both boys agreed that History of Magic was just dull.

What wasn’t boring, however, was the supplemental reading material Harry picked up. Dudley focused mostly on just trying to get through his own texts, but Harry burned through the textbooks in three days. In between helping Dudley read, he took to devouring the books they had purchased. Harry seemed to find wizarding etiquette and politics particularly interesting; he despised the books he’d picked up about his family and himself, and Quidditch became a newfound love of both boys. They even learned how to take out a subscription to  _ The Daily Prophet _ so they could keep themselves informed. When Dudley needed a break from his textbooks, he took to  _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _ . He had it read twice before he finished the rest of his books.

_ Hogwarts, A History _ was also exceptionally helpful. It gave both boys a rudimentary understanding of what they might expect upon arrival. There was a current events section that seemed to magically update itself, in which they found the current list of professors and a profile on the current headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. This spurred another round of investigation as they looked up what “Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump, Grindelwald, and Dragon Pox” were. 

Both boys immersed themselves as much as possible in the world they had fallen into, but it wasn’t enough.

“We’ll never understand as much as that blonde-haired prat,” Dudley spat after listening to Harry go on a tangent about the specific honorifics used for people of noble houses.

“No, maybe not now, but we do have one advantage: an outsider’s point of view. We can choose who we want to associate with without the prejudice we would have had, had we grown up in this world,” Harry countered. A faraway look came over his green eyes, just visible behind his glasses.

“I guess,” Dudley shrugged, “I dunno. You’ve always been better at that than me. I just feel at a loss. At least you belong there. Your parents were from there.”

Harry snapped back into himself, instantaneously, “You belong there too, Lee, and you know it, so don’t give me that crap. You’re just as capable as anyone. Besides, you’re my cousin, my brother really, and that’ll give you a leg up no doubt,” Seeing Dudley’s dejected look, he added, “I believe in you, Lee. There’s nothing we can’t conquer together.” His brother’s conviction was infectious. He couldn’t help feeling uplifted.

The night of August 31st arrived, and the boys trepidatiously crept into the living room to ask Vernon to take them to the station in the morning. The man was surrounded by beer bottles and belched loudly when they entered. Dudley pointed his wand directly at his father while Harry gripped his tightly by his side. When they asked Vernon grunted in affirmation, and the boys could only hope he remembered in the morning. 

\----

September 1st dawned brightly, and both boys were up with the sun. Neither slept well, and after realizing they couldn’t go back to sleep, Dudley snuck into Harry’s bedroom, and they spent the rest of the time rereading anything they thought would be useful.  _ The Daily Prophet _ held an op-ed from various people about their first day at Hogwarts. The picture was of a smoking steam engine glistening outside the Kings Cross station. Neither boy talked very much, too excited and nervous to open their mouths. A stumble and a grunt let them know that Vernon was awake. They followed them downstairs. 

He nursed a cup of black coffee and grunted at them. “Well, come on if we’re going then,”

Both rushed back upstairs and grabbed their trunks, Hedwig, and Hecate. Petunia didn’t bother to see them off.

The drive was a quiet one, and when they finally arrived at the station Vernon all but kicked them out. “Good luck finding the platform, Freaks!” He yelled as he drove away, almost taking Hecate with him.

Dudley successfully managed to save his cat then took a real glance at his ticket, which read platform 9 3/4. “Uh, Harry, how  _ are  _ we going to find the platform?”

“Oh, didn’t I say? Sorry. It’s in  _ Hogwarts: A History _ .” He sped off toward platforms nine and ten. “See the barrier?” He asked once they’d arrived. “We have to go through it. It’s not really there; it’s actually a complicated bit of illusion magic. They suggest you run at it if youhaven’t done it before.” Harry seemed intrigued, but Dudley was queasy at the thought of running full speed into a wall, even if Harry said it wasn’t there. But his cousin was right most of the time, so he squared his shoulders. 

“Race you?” He grinned. A similar competitive smile lit up on his brother’s face.

“You’re on,” Harry smirked.

“Three,” Dudley started.

“Two,” Harry continued. 

“ONE!” They both cried and ran full tilt at the wall. When they emerged, it was onto a much cleaner platform sporting a deep red steam engine bearing the words “Hogwarts Express.”

“You were right, little brother,” Dudley breathed, completely awe-filled.

“Did you ever doubt me?” Came the reply.

Dudley’s rush lasted him until they got settled into an empty compartment. After getting Hedwig and Hecate settled, Dudley began to look through the open compartment window and saw all the happy families kissing their children goodbye. He wanted that badly, but he realized he didn’t want it with his own parents. He had no hopes of them becoming the people he wanted them to be. It was a melancholy feeling to know that he wished for that form of love, but loved himself enough to know that he wanted it from people who deserved his love back.

Dudley was so busy staring off into space; he didn’t notice the three redheads who barged into their compartment.

“Oh, sorry mates,” One of the taller ones started.

“Didn’t think anyone was in here,” The other finished. Dudley realized that they must be identical twins. There was a smaller boy about his and Harry’s age between them.

“I’m Fred,” One pointed to himself.

“And I”m George,” The other said.

“And this is our ickle Ronnikins,” The finished together. The other boy turned as red as his hair. The familial resemblance was unmistakable; the smaller boy was obviously their younger brother.

“My  _ name _ is Ron, Ron Weasley,” The younger boy corrected, offering his hand to Dudley.

“Dudley Dursley,” He replied, trying to remember if this was one of the names on this “sacred twenty-eight” Harry had read about. He doubted it. All the boys’ clothes were obviously second hand, not that he minded.

“First year then, eh, Dudley?” One twin asked. Dudley nodded.

“So’s Ronnikins here,” The other one said, shoving his brother in the compartment.

“Well, off we are, Lee Jordan has a tarantula, and we can’t wait to see it,” And the twins promptly left.

“Sorry about them,” Ron rubbed the back of his neck and sat down. “They’ve always been a bit strange.” Dudley just shrugged. He wasn’t sure what counted as strange in the wizarding world. “I’m Ron,” the redhead said again, extending his hand to Harry, who had previously been pretending not to notice the conversation going on around him. Harry’s piercing green eyes looked up from the book he had his nose in. Instead of shaking his hand, he clasped the other boy’s forearm.

“Harry,” He replied purposefully leaving off his surname. The other boy seemed surprised by the handshake but grasped his forearm in kind.  _ Crap _ that must be one of those wizarding etiquette things Harry was droning on about.

When Harry made no motion to continue the conversation, Ron turned back to Dudley. “So, muggle-born then?” He asked. Dudley immediately prickled-  _ not this again _ . “Not that it matters, of course!” Ron rushed to reassure him. “My dad’s actually obsessed with muggles, and my family tree has a lot of muggle-borns. We don’t keep with that blood supremacy nonsense.”

Dudley was only a little bit assured by this. If it wasn’t important, then why did he ask? It also unsettled him that someone could be “obsessed” with muggles. It made it sound like muggles were something to be ogled at instead of just regular people. The conversation stalled after that until Harry absentmindedly brushed his bangs from in front of his eyes. His scar was visible for all of three seconds, but that was all it took for Ron to jump on him.

“You’re Harry Potter!” He exclaimed.

Harry’s head snapped up from his book, green eyes immediately wary. His posture changed from mildly indifferent to defensive in a second. “Yes,” He replied.

“Wow! That’s so cool! You’re really Harry Potter. That means we’ll probably be in the same house. I’m destined to be in Gryffindor, my whole family is, and both your parents were. This is wicked!” The sentences came out in a rush, almost incomprehensible.

“I’m not sure I’ll be in Gryffindor, actually. I think I might be better suited for Slytherin,” Harry said icily.

“No way! You can’t go there! Slytherins are nasty, slimy, evil, gits!”

“I think you forget that Merlin himself was sorted into Slytherin,” Harry countered calmly, “He wasn’t evil.”

“But that was You-Know-Who’s house!” Ron rushed on, acting as Harry’s protest was irrelevant. “Every dark wizard in history has come out of that house. You just can’t go there,” Ron spluttered.

“The actions of a few don’t speak for the actions of all. Besides, I seem to recall reading about quite a few Death Eaters that were not in Slytherin. Every house has its good and bad sides.”

Ron didn’t seem to be swayed by Harry’s logical argument. It seemed it wasn’t just poncy gits who were set in their prejudices. Before they could continue to argue, the compartment door slid open to reveal the same blonde from the robe shop with two burly boys flanking him. Dudley concealed a groan. Just what they needed- more prejudiced gits.

“So it’s true then, Harry Potter’s on the train,  _ and _ he’s considering Slytherin. Good choice, I have to say. I’m sorry we weren’t properly introduced before. I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” The blonde held out his hand for Harry to shake.

Harry stood up and clasped his forearm. “Well met, Heir Malfoy. Harry Potter.”

“Well met, Heir Potter,” Draco smirked, “This is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.” Neither boy offered a hand, but Harry nodded to them all the same.

Dudley looked confused at the title, shooting a glance at Harry, who mouthed “later.”

“You can’t be serious! You’re going to befriend a Malfoy! Their entire family is dark!” Ron protested.

“I think I can choose my own friends for myself, thank you.”

It seemed as if it might come to blows until Hecate gave a huge hiss and pounced on Ron’s discarded cloak. A sharp squeak was heard, and a rat came scrambling out from underneath the garment. The half-kneazle proceeded to chase the rat around the compartment.

“Get that cat off my Scabbers!” Ron screeched. Dudley lunged for Hecate just in time.

“Er,” Dudley stammered and looked around, “I think it’s best if we just get going.” He grabbed his trunk and, with Hecate still under his arm, began to push past Harry and Malfoy into the train corridor.

“I believe I will take my leave as well,” Harry said and gathered his things. As he exited, he slid the compartment door shut behind him, leaving Ron alone.

“Come, Potter, if you’re considering the house of snakes, let me take you to meet some,” Draco suggested.

“That sounds excellent. Lead the way,” Harry said and set off after the blonde. “Are you coming, Lee?” He asked, turning around after realizing Dudley wasn’t following.

“Er, you go ahead. I’ll catch up later,” he said. He wasn’t too keen on spending more time with people like Malfoy. He watched his brother disappear and decided to set off in the other direction. Before he could get far, a girl with dark skin and wildly bushy hair bowled straight into him.

“Oh!” She squeaked, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there. Have you seen a toad? This boy Neville’s lost one. I’m Hermione Granger, by the way,” she held out her hand.

“Dudley Dursley,” He replied and shook, “And no, I haven’t seen a toad, but I’d be happy to help you look for it,”

“Oh! Thank you! Have you not found a compartment yet?” She asked, gesturing to his trunk.

“No, er, well, I had one, but it’s a long story.”

“Well, why don’t you join me and Neville in ours and then we can continue the search,”

“Thanks,” Dudley smiled.

Hermione continued to chat all the way to the compartment, “I’m so excited to be going to Hogwarts; everything is so fascinating. I’m muggle-born, and I had no idea about magic until my letter came! My parents were so surprised. Of course, I decided to read everything I could get my hands on. I have to catch up, you know?”

“You sound exactly like my cousin.” It was true, but the way Hermione spoke made it seem that she was enthralled with the knowledge. Her eyes held an innocent spark and thirst for information, whereas Harry’s seemed to burn with a deeper darker hunger born out of the childhood they had suffered. Pulling himself out of these thoughts, he continued, “I swear he’s read  _ Hogwarts: A History _ five times already.”

“Oh, really! I have too! I wanted to memorize as much as I could before I came. I was so fascinated with the houses. I think Gryffindor sounds like a good house, but I don’t think I’d be opposed to Ravenclaw either. What do you think?”

“Oh, well, I’m not a big reader,” Dudley admitted and blushed. His dyslexia was a source of shame. Hermione’s face fell at this, so Dudley decided to take a chance and clarify. Hermione was muggle-born; she might understand more than a wizard would. Dudley wasn’t sure whether the wizarding world had dyslexia. “Er, it’s not that I don’t like reading. I’m er, I’m dyslexic,” he whispered the last word.

Hermione didn’t bat an eyelash. “Oh! Then have you tried having your books read to you? I think there’s a spell for that. I could do some research.”

“Oh, well, you don’t have to,” He was growing redder by the minute. 

“Honestly, it’s no worries; magic should be accessible to everyone. At least that’s what I think.”

“Me too,” He smiled. It seemed like he’d finally found someone he could relate to. Hermione was a bit forward and slightly abrasive, but she was much better than Malfoy or Ron. They finally reached the compartment. Hermione slid the door open to reveal a small, chubby, very distraught boy, who was obviously a first year like themselves.

“I c-can’t find him,” he said into his hands when Hermione and Dudley entered the compartment, “He was a gift from Gran, and now I’ve lost him!” The boy began to cry into his hands.

Dudley put away his trunk and released Hecate while Hermione comforted the smaller boy. “Oh, Neville, it’s okay. We’ll find Trevor. Look, this is Dudley, and he’s said he’ll help us search for him.”

Neville finally took his head out of his hands and peered up at Dudley. The distraught look in his eyes was so raw it struck a chord in him. Dudley had seen Harry’s face wear that look too many times growing up.

“I’m Dudley Dursley,” he said, offering his hand to the boy.

“Ne-Neville Longbottom,” He took the offered hand and shook. Then he let out another great cry, “Oh, Gran would be so upset! I can’t even introduce myself properly!” He gulped and amended his previous statement. “Neville Longbottom, Heir to House Longbottom.”

“Well met, Heir Longbottom,” Dudley replied, hoping he used the correct form of address. At least he thought that was what Harry had said to Malfoy before. Both Neville and Hermione seemed taken off guard by it. Hermione looked impressed, and Neville looked relieved.

“Well, Neville, there’s no sense and sitting here and moping about your toad,” Dudley said continued, putting what he hoped was an encouraging smile on his face. “This is a fixable problem. Trevor may be hiding, but he has to be on the train somewhere, right?”

Neville nodded his head. “Okay, so then we just keep looking.”

While they had been talking, Hecate began to sniff around the compartment. She took a seat in front of the closed compartment door and started to scratch at it, letting out a small mew.

“Is that a Kneazle?” Hermione asked.

“Half-kneazle. Her name is Hecate.”

“Oh! After the Greek goddess of Magic. How fitting!” Hecate scratched at the door again and let out a more persistent mew.

“What is it, girl?” Dudley asked, “What do you want?” Hecate mewed louder and tried to reach for the handle. Finally, Dudley decided to let her out, and she calmly began to walk down the corridor with her tail in the air. “Might as well follow her. I’ve heard kneazles are very smart, maybe she can smell Trevor,” Dudley said with a shrug.

The three crept out of the compartment and followed the black cat. After a while, she came to a stop in front of an empty compartment, the door slightly ajar. She poked her head in and sat down, staring underneath the seat. Neville crouched down to see what she led them to and let out an excited yelp.

“Trevor!” He scooped up his toad, which let out a loud croak. Neville clasped him firmly in his hands, and the trio traipsed back to their compartment. They settled in chatting as the Hogwarts Express steadily made its way to its destination. Dudley was excited about the food on the trolley and decided to try one of everything, pulling out the money Harry had given him. He determined his favorite were the chocolate frogs and, after Neville explained about the different cards, decided to collect them. The ride passed uneventfully after that, Hermione looking up a spell to keep Trevor locked in his cage, and the young girl doing most of the talking. Dudley didn’t mind; however, he was happy to be in the company of people who didn’t care who he was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dudley and Harry get sorted!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the time in between updates guys! My mom finally opened her business which has been in the works for two years and in between working my full-time job I've been helping out there. It hasn't left a lot of time to write if I still want to sleep. The next chapter is in the works but updates might be coming in less frequently because of my new schedule.  
> Also, you may have noticed I added a definite number of chapters. This is tentative. Right now in my outline, I have nine chapters but I have a feeling some will be too long and I will need to break them apart. My guess is I'll have closer to eleven chapters but I'll update the number as I go.  
> The asterisks denote actual quotes I pulled from Philosopher's Stone. I own nothing.   
> As always I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Edited 7/29/2020: Nothing major for this chapter I just remembered that Dudley actually has a cat (oops!).

About twenty minutes before the train was set to arrive at Hogsmeade Station, Dudley excused himself to change into his robes. He didn’t want Neville or Hermione to see the scarring on his back from the lashes he’d endured from his father’s belt. He ran into Harry, who seemed to have had the same idea. They nodded to each other in understanding and continued to the loo.

“Where did you end up riding?” Harry asked.

“Oh, well, I met a girl who needed help finding a toad for this boy named Neville, and when we finally found him, I decided to just stay in their compartment. They’re pretty cool, actually. Neville’s a pure-blood, but he doesn’t seem to have any prejudice one way or another, and Hermione’s a muggle-born like me. We’ve been bonding over that. Did you stay with Malfoy?” Dudley couldn’t help but sneer at the blond boy’s name. 

“No, actually, he introduced me to much better company. We conversed for a bit, but mostly I’ve been reading,” Harry admitted.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not spending too much time with that poncy git. I wouldn’t want him to rub off on you,” Dudley growled.

Harry laughed at his brother’s antics, “I highly doubt that’s going to happen. Besides, I can look out for myself.”

He was confident as he said it, but Dudley couldn’t help wondering if it was true. Yet, Harry had held his own in Madam Malkin’s when Dudley hadn’t the slightest clue how to navigate the conversation. When it came to words, Harry could duel with the best of them.

“Er, Harry, why did Malfoy call you ‘Heir Potter?’”

“Because until I accept Lordship over House Potter, I’m its heir.”

“Wait, back up, you’re a lord? And you never thought to mention that?” Dudley asked incredulously.

“I’m not a Lord yet, but yes, I will be. Potter, although not a sacred twenty-eight family, like the Malfoys for instance, is still a well regarded pure-blood line. And they- we- hold a lordship. When I accept my lordship, it will grant me a seat on the Wizengamot,” Harry explained.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me,” Dudley was extremely irritated. He knew Harry didn’t want to get by on his name but to keep something this big from someone he thought of as a brother... it hurt, to say the least.

“I guess I didn’t want you to think of me any differently,” Harry admitted in a quiet voice.

“Well, that seems like a pretty stupid reason, Harry. I thought you knew me better than that,” The loo opened up, and Dudley stomped in. “See you on the platform,” He bit out before shutting the door. By the time he was done, Harry was gone. He went back to regroup with Hermione and Neville, still tense and anxiously awaiting their arrival at Hogwarts.

\----

“Firs’ years over here!” Dudley heard the familiar voice of Hagrid booming over the crowd. “Four to a boat!” Dudley shuffled forward with Hermione and Neville searching for his cousin’s mop of black hair. He was all the way to the boats when he spotted him. He slipped into Harry’s boat, tugging Neville along behind him. He was about to help Hermione to a seat when a dark-skinned boy usurped her place.

Dudley was put out, but Hermione didn’t seem to mind. “I’ll see you at the castle!” She called and got into a boat with three other girls.

The boat jostled as they all sat down. The tension between the cousins was palpable.

“Heir Longbottom, well met,” The unknown boy greeted Neville. He was obviously trying to ease some of the strain. He didn’t seem to need an introduction with Harry, so Dudley assumed they must have ridden together on the train. 

“Well met, Heir Zabini,” Neville replied in a small voice.

“And you are?” The other boy asked.

“Dudley Dursley, I’m Harry’s cousin,” Zabini looked surprised by this information but didn’t comment. “Neville, this is my cousin I was telling you about.”

“Harry Potter, well met Heir Longbottom,” He replied formally, holding out his hand for Neville to clasp.

Neville gave out a loud squeak and almost toppled into the lake but Dudley caught him before he could go over.

“I trust you didn’t tell him who your cousin is?” Zabini asked, amused.

Dudley shot the boy a glare. “It didn’t seem relevant at the time.”

Zabini’s smirk just grew. Dudley was thinking of something else to say in his defense when the boat began to move. All four boys were quiet, waiting for the view of the castle Dudley knew would be coming up. And there it was. Dudley struggled to keep from gaping at the grand structure. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. At that moment he felt a part of himself settle into place. The hope he had felt when their letters came, and Hagrid took them to Diagon Alley, bloomed. He was at Hogwarts; he was safe. He felt his anger at his brother dissipate. They had finally made it. Whatever happened, he would be out from underneath his father’s wrath and with Harry at his side, he knew they could take whatever came their way. He looked over at his companions and saw Harry try to conceal his awe. Neville was gaping openly and Zabini had what appeared to be his trademark smirk on his face. Harry glanced over at Dudley, and an understanding passed between them. Dudley was still hurt but no longer angry. Relief flooded Harry’s eyes and he smiled a genuine smile.

The boats docked themselves and Hagrid led them into a large entrance hall. In all its grandeur, even Buckingham Palace couldn’t compare. Whereas the Queen’s estate was lush with rugs and chandeliers, Hogwarts beauty lay in its stonework, obviously thousands of years old. Dudley could feel the magic emanating from the place. The history of wizardkind bore down upon him. He felt special to even stand within the castle’s walls. Another glance at his cousin and he could tell Harry felt the same.

The first years came to a stop at the top of the stairs, a severe-looking witch in a pointy black hat greeting them. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall in a slight Scottish lilt.

*“Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, quieting the chatter amongst the first years. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.”

Dudley and Harry were both appreciative of her neutral stance on the houses. 

“I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.”* She ended her speech and prepared for the task of leading the new students.

“Er, Lee?” Said Harry, turning to his brother, “Are you going to be okay if we’re not in the same house?” Harry bit his lip, a nervous habit he’d picked up in childhood. His eyes were pleading.

Dudley frowned. He hadn’t wanted to think about the possibility, but it seemed the more likely outcome.

“Yeah, I think so,” He sighed, “Look, Harry, you’ll probably get sorted after me, so don’t do anything stupid. Go where the hat wants you to go.”

Harry looked both pained and relieved. Neither boy wanted to be separated, but they wouldn’t compromise their values either.

Then it was time. The Great Hall’s doors opened to reveal four long tables with students sitting in front of empty dinner plates. Dudley recognized the ginger twins from the train ride seated at the far left table. They were wearing red and gold ties that clashed violently with their hair.  _ Gryffindor table then.  _ The professors’ table was directly ahead of them. When all the first years had made it into the hall, McGonagall produced a tattered hat and set it on a three-legged stool. A rip opened, and the hat began to sing. It talked about the virtues of each house. Then the professor produced a scroll and began to read off names in alphabetical order by last name.

“Abbot, Hannah!” Was the first and after putting on the hat she was sorted into Hufflepuff, the table immediately to their left.

It didn’t take long for Dudley’s name to be called.

“Dursley, Dudley!” He walked up to the hat, hands shaking. Looking up at the table in front of them, a man he recognized as Professor Dumbledore looked down on him, a mysterious twinkle in his eye. To his right, he could feel the harsh gaze of a professor and looked up to see a man with black robes and long, greasy, black hair scowling at him. Trying to put the professor’s gaze out of his mind, he sat down on the stool and put the hat on.

“Very interesting,” It whispered in his ear. Dudley was beyond startled; he hadn’t expected the old thing to talk to him. He had a moment of panic in which he wondered if the other students could hear it but realized that the hat had been silent for every other sorting except to shout the placement. “Yes, a muggle-born, but with Harry Potter as a cousin. Not necessarily cunning, and no dislike for learning but not love either.” Dudley could tell the hat was taking longer to decide than it had for the students before him. Mutters of “Our first hatstall,” reached his ears from the other tables. “You’re obviously most loyal to your cousin. You’ve had to have a great work ethic to achieve your grades, which would suit you for Hufflepuff, but you have great bravery and a need to defend others. But where to put you?”

“Somewhere where I can protect my brother. I need to protect my brother,” Dudley thought furiously.

“Are you sure? Hufflepuff would offer you comfort; you’d be well protected there. No? Tough, but I think it better be...”

“GRYFFINDOR!” The hat yelled finally releasing Dudley. He glanced back at his cousin with resignation. Harry had the potential to be in Gryffindor, but Dudley doubted it would be so. He was also disappointed to be in the house the Weasley boy would most likely end up in, but he wasn’t displeased either. He went and sat down next to the twins who waved him over.

Dudley watched the sorting impatiently, noting that the Malfoy boy went into Slytherin, the hat barely touching his head, while Hermione and Neville joined him in Gryffindor, which he was thankful for. Neville almost ran off with the hat still on his head and Dudley had a hard time convincing him that it was an honest mistake. He shot anyone laughing furious glares.

“I was just so surprised to be in Gryffindor,” Neville whispered beside him, “I thought for sure I’d be in Hufflepuff. At least Gran’ll be proud; Dad was a Gryffindor,”

“It wanted me for Hufflepuff too,” Dudley confided, “But I’m glad we’re both here.”

After turning back to watch the rest of the sorting, Dudley also noted that the greasy teacher from before was glaring at Harry as well. He filed the information later.

“Potter, Harry!” McGonagall called and the entire hall went deadly silent. Dudley looked on in trepidation. 

The hat took a long time with Harry, but not as long as Dudley. Finally, it called out “SLYTHERIN!” The entire hall erupted in smug applause from the Slytherins, confusion from other tables, and from some, outrage. Dudley glanced at Ron and saw that he was red in the face. Another glance at the professor’s table showed that Dumbledore’s eyes were still twinkling, but there was a calculating look to them. The unnamed professor looked utterly confused. Harry held his head high throughout it all. He took a seat next to Draco, beginning a conversation as if there had been no interruption at all. He looked at his cousin across the hall and gave him a small smile. He was happy Harry hadn’t followed him into Gryffindor. Sure the boy was brave, but he knew he would be better suited for the house of the cunning.

Unfortunately for Dudley, “Weasley, Ronald!” followed them into Gryffindor. The sorting ended when “Zabini, Blaise!” the same boy from the boat, followed Harry into Slytherin. He took the seat across from Harry and the three boys began to talk animatedly.

The headmaster said some nonsense words and then wonderful heaps of food appeared on the table. Dudley gaped at it; he hadn’t had such a big meal since before his first incident of accidental magic. All the makings for a veritable Sunday roast were upon the table: roast chicken and beef, mashed and roasted potatoes, yorkshire pudding, gravy, carrots, and peas. Dudley hadn’t had the traditional Sunday meal since he was a boy and went about satisfying the sudden craving. The others engaged in conversation and making use of the distraction, Dudley pocketed some bread rolls for later. Stealing food had become a habit, and since he didn’t know where the kitchens were, he needed to be secure in the knowledge of a next meal.

\----

After he was satisfied with the amount of food on his plate, admittedly less than most of the other students due to his diminished appetite from starvation, he got to know the other first years. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were the only boys he hadn’t met yet. Seamus had a strong Irish accent and explained that he was a half-blood, while Dean explained the bewilderment he had felt at getting his letter for he, like Hermione and Dudley, was muggle-born. Seamus seemed outgoing and Dean, while shier, was able to engage Dudley in a debate on football. Hermione didn’t seem to be having much luck talking to the girls that had been sorted into their house, Parvati Patel and Lavender Brown. On first impression, they both seemed to be too shallow for Hermione’s level of intelligence. They continually giggled to themselves, and Dudley felt sympathy for Hermione having to room with them for the next seven years. The other two other girls in their year, Fay Dunbar and Sophie Roper, didn’t seem too bad, but it appeared as if they already knew each other before they came to Hogwarts. Instead, Hermione was talking to yet another redheaded boy, this one wearing a prefect’s badge.

Dudley also had the misfortune of sitting on the other side of the table as Ron. The boy’s table manners were terrible; he continually talked with his mouth full, spraying everyone with spittle and potatoes. But nothing was able to put Dudley off of the first full meal he’d had in ages. In talking to Neville, he found they both had a love of plants. He spent the rest of the meal exchanging information on various types. Neville was intrigued by Dudley’s knowledge of mundane flora while Dudley hung onto every word Neville said about magical herbs. Hermione joined in to ask questions here and there. 

The desserts had just appeared when Dudley noticed the professor from before glaring at both his cousin and himself again. Obviously, the confusion at Harry’s sorting had worn off. Drawing the redheaded twin closest to him out of his conversation with a boy with dreadlocks, he asked, “Who’s that professor all in black? The one with greasy hair?”

“Oh, that’s Professor Snape. He's the head of Slytherin house, but he teaches potions. I’d steer well clear of him though; he has a nasty grudge against Gryffindors,” He answered. 

“Wouldn’t do for a firstie like you to get on his bad side,” The other one added.

“You’d be in trouble for sure,” The first one chimed in.

“The next seven years would be miserable,” The other one agreed.

“Too late for us though, we’ve already caused too much trouble,” Both twins smirked at this, neither one looked at all abashed despite the advice they’d just given.

Dudley stared openly at Snape, but the professor didn’t look at him again.

Once Dudley had his fill of jam doughnuts and piping hot apple pie with vanilla ice cream, the headmaster stood up and announced that the Forbidden Forest and the third-floor corridor were off-limits, mentioning something about dying a painful death. Dudley hoped he wasn’t serious, but all bets were off with magical folk. Dudley was also intrigued by the Quidditch tryouts.

“We’re the beaters for the Gryffindor team,” One twin said after seeing his interest.

“Oh,” Dudley’s face fell. The only position he could see himself playing was beater as they were usually the beefier players. He didn’t think the school would have either boxing or wrestling, and he knew he needed an athletic outlet to keep his temper in check.

“Don’t worry little firstie,” The other one said.

“They don’t usually let first years on the main team,” The first explained.

“But we’re always looking for reserve players,”

“After all, Quidditch is a brutal game.”

“You never know if a player might be hospitalized.” 

Dudley perked back up at this. Perhaps he could make the JV team and if the twins ever got injured he’d play for real. He felt awkward knowing that he’d benefit if one of them got hurt. They seemed to sense both his hope and apprehension and just smiled, obviously not caring in the least. 

“Are there any other sports here?” From what Dudley had read the wizarding world was dominated by Quidditch but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“Nah, we might’ve had a Quadpot team, but not enough people go out for it,” One of the twins answered, “Though Flitwick runs a Dueling Club. He’s the charms professor; he was a champion dueler in his day. But it’s not open to first years,” He said apologetically, “Most just don’t know enough and what they do know is more dangerous since it hasn’t been practiced.”

Dudley was sad about the dueling. That was probably as close as he would get to boxing. He resolved to work as hard as possible in learning charms so that come second year he could join. “Quadpot, that’s the American Quidditch, right?” Dudley clarified.

“Yeah, I suppose they’d have a team at Ilvermorny, the American wizarding school, but not here,” The ginger replied.

“So it’s like footie and American football,” Dean ascertained.

The twins looked lost at this but Dudley could see the sense in it. “Muggle sports,” Dean cleared up. The boys nodded at this.

Dudley was a bit worried and miffed. Sports had always been his outlet for his anger, and now he was facing a school year without them. Hannah’s face popped into his mind, and he wondered what she would tell him. 

“When one door closes, another one opens. We can always find a solution Dudley,” He heard her voice. He thought for a while and then an idea struck. Her bright smile came to mind and he knew it was the right choice. 

“Say, Dean, what would you think about putting together pick up footie games? I mean, I doubt it’d be as popular, but there have to be enough muggle-borns here to make it work,” Dudley asked.

“Y’know,” The other boy responded, “That could work. I was actually on a team myself, midfielder or winger mostly. You could make a strong defender.”

They got to talking and decided to ask around to the other houses. If enough people were interested, they could form house teams. And if not it was still a good outlet until he could join the Dueling Club next year.

Soon it was time to head to their new dorms. Dudley had been hoping to talk to Harry before they retired for the night, but it didn’t look like he was going to be able to. The boy Hermione spoke to earlier in the evening stood up and waved for the first years to follow him as the older students made their own way back. They were lead upstairs to one of the towers. The Prefect, who’s name was Percy, and was indeed another Weasley, introduced them all to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and gave the password: “Caput Draconis.” She swung forward, and they entered a cozy common room filled with both desks and comfortable chairs. A fire was roaring, crackling merrily. The boys were up the staircase to the left while the girls were to the right.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Dudley asked Hermione.

“Of course! I can’t wait for classes to start!” she said enthusiastically then wished both Neville and Dudley a good night.

The dorm room was just big enough to fit five four-poster twin beds comfortably. Each bed had a small nightstand situated to the right. The trimmings for the room were all done up in Gryffindor red and gold. Two windows looked out upon the Hogwarts grounds. To the opposite side of the entrance, was another door that led to a sizeable bathroom. There were three shower stalls, two urinals, and three bathroom stalls. A long mirror adorned one wall with three adjoining sinks. 

Neville and Dudley picked beds next to each other as far away from Ron as possible. Once they settled into them, their trunks popped into existence at the end of their beds. Dudley let Hecate out of her cage, and she stretched and lay down at the end of his bed. After changing into his pajamas and bidding Neville good night, he slid underneath his sheets, feeling nothing but contentment for the first time in a long time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hear you guys on the Hufflepuff- I think it would've been a good fit too- but in my mind, he's a lion at heart. If you're not convinced I hope he'll prove it to you in later chapters!  
> Also, excuse my complete lack of knowledge about soccer (yep I'm American). I promise to do more research for the coming chapters. But if I get something wrong don't hesitate to correct me (nicely please?). The football idea was one of those things where Dudley came to me and said "I need this" and I didn't see why I shouldn't give it to him. So here we are.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dudley and Harry start classes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter. I have to admit, I'm not as happy as I wanted to be with it, but it really didn't want to be written.  
> On a completely different note, I want to send hope and love to all of you out there dealing with the effects of the COVID-19. I know it's a scary place out there but I sincerely hope that everyone can find a little bit of joy in reading fanfiction, if not mine, then one of the other wonderful writers on this site. Stay strong and I hope you stay safe.  
> As always, I hope you enjoy it.  
> Edited 7/31/2020: clean up, a little more detail about classes, and a mention of Harry's scar hurting in Defense.

The first day of classes dawned, and Dudley was both excited and nervous. He, Hermione, and Neville had managed to catch Percy as he was on his way to breakfast, and he led them through different hallways and moving staircases. Dudley tried to remember it all, but knew that if he hadn’t been following the Prefect, he would be hopelessly lost. He wondered whether anyone would find him if he did. When they finally sat down in the great hall, he tried to eat the rashers of bacon and toast on his plate, but it was futile. Deciding he would be hungry after his nerves wore off, he snuck pieces of toast into his bag for later. 

“You know, we didn’t know whether I’d get into Hogwarts,” Neville babbled, breaking the silence, “My family thought I might be a squib.” At Dudley’s perplexed expression, he clarified. “It’s a person born to magical parents, but they don’t have magic. Basically, the opposite of a muggle-born.”

“That must have been tough,” Dudley sympathized.

“Yeah, my family did all sorts of things to try to shake the magic into me.”

Dudley winced at the phrasing; it sounded too much like his father saying he’d “beat the freakishness out of him.”

Neville, oblivious to Dudley’s reaction, continued, “I finally manifested when my Uncle Algie was holding me by my feet out a window and accidentally let go. I bounced!” Neville laughed.

Dudley was horror-struck. Who would do that to a kid? But then again, his father had beaten him within an inch of his life on several occasions. He decided to let it go for now, but to keep an eye on Neville and resolved to pry if he had to.

Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house, came around with their schedules. He looked, hoping for classes with Harry, but the only shared class with the Slytherins was potions. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until Friday. Then a thought struck him, and he grimaced. That was the class the hostile professor taught. He would have to find an earlier time in the week to talk to Harry.

He was happy to see his first class of the day was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. At least he would start the school year with something he was passionate about. Neville seemed equally excited. It would also be a good time to ask around about the pick-up football games since it was a shared period.

Herbology was as much of a success as Dudley had hoped. Professor Sprout walked them through the proper ways to use each of the herbology tools they’d find in greenhouse one and how to wear their dragon hide gloves properly. She ran them through the procedures for if someone got hurt; everyone was to work with a buddy for the rest of the year to reduce the risk of injury and assist if something were to happen. He immediately paired up with Neville because of their mutual interest in the subject. Hermione teamed up with Dean, as Ron and Seamus and the other Gryffindor girls had already paired off. They were four to a plant, so the four Gryffindors worked together. He had a fun time tending to and transplanting Moly flowers, which would be used for Professor Snape’s potion stores. He even managed to answer a question right about their usage earning ten points for Gryffindor. 

He was able to find a few first years interested in football, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Roger Malone, and Megan Jones, who although she was related to Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies, and a pureblood, was determined to be a part of a team.

“I’ve always loved sports, and I love my big sister, but it would be nice to not be compared to her when I play Quidditch. I’m not sure what ‘football’ is, but I’d be happy to learn and I’m a quick study!”

The three told Dudley and Dean they would be happy to spread the word around to the upper years in Hufflepuff.

Next, the Gryffindors trouped off to History of Magic, which was immediately written off as the most boring class, and the students had only had two lessons thus far. The only exciting thing about the course was that it was taught by a ghost, but that soon lost its appeal as his monotone voice droned on. Dudley had a particularly hard time focusing when his notes began to look as if they were written in Gobbledegook, the language of the Goblins they were studying. Dudley resolved to study on his own time and perhaps ask Hermione for help as she seemed the only one impervious to Professor Binns’ voice.

Thankfully, they broke for lunch afterward. Dudley quizzed Hermione about how to send letters to people in the muggle world who didn’t know about magic, so he might be able to correspond with Hannah.

“Well, I’ve never needed to because my parents know all about magic now that I’m here, and if needed, they could send a letter off for me. You don’t have anyone at home that could do that for you?”

Dudley hid a grimace. He didn’t think his parents would be best pleased if they received a letter by owl post. Whatever he wrote would probably be burned on sight, and he worried about the owl’s safety. However, he didn’t want Hermione to know about his home life, so he tried to think of an answer. He had a feeling she was the type to pester him into telling a teacher or going to someone herself.

“Not really. See, my parents don’t know the person I’m trying to reach, and I’m worried they wouldn’t send it off.” If Hermione found that explanation odd, she didn’t let on. 

“Oh, well, I suppose you could always send the owl to the post office. Some wizards work there to facilitate this sort of thing. I suppose if you sent the letter there, it would get sorted. It’s worth a try, at least.”

Dudley thanked her and set about writing to Hannah. He didn’t even attempt to use one of his quills. It was already hard enough writing with a regular pen, and he had found that his handwriting was exceptionally bad when using the wizarding writing implement. If the school didn’t require it, he would’ve switched to his pens by now. 

Dear Hannah,

I wanted to let you know that I’ve been accepted to Hogwarts School in Scotland. You might not have heard of it because it’s a small private school. Me and Harry are boarding here. It’s only the first day, but I’m very excited about it. I’ve already made some friends. This boy named Neville who likes plants as much as I do and this really smart girl named Hermione. Because it’s small, they don’t have many sports teams. I was worried about not having an outlet like you said, so I decided to get some people together for pickup football games. I’m doing much better here than I was at primary. There are some bullies but I haven’t even punched them once!

Thanks for all your support and I hope I can see you when we come home for the summer,

Dudley

P.S. if you want to reply to this letter just address it to me at Hogwarts School, Gryffindor Tower, Scotland, and the post office will know where to send it.

Reading over it twice, he folded it neatly, tucked it into his robe pocket, and decided to ask Harry if he could borrow Hedwig the next time he saw him. 

After lunch, the Gryffindors headed for their last class of the day, double Charms with the Ravenclaws. Although Dudley had initially been worried about the subject, he found that he actually had a knack for it. With Professor Flitwick pronouncing the names clearly, the Latin language barrier seemed to dissolve. He wasn’t quite as good as Hermione, but he was determined to give her a run for her money. He also managed to garner more interest for the football teams.

At dinner, Dudley decided to seek out Harry, but before he could, a familiar snowy white owl dropped a small letter in his lap. She swooped down to take a bit of his chicken and get some affection before flying off again. The note read:

Meet me in the owlery after dinner,

-H

Dudley smiled and quickly finished his meal. He slipped some more dinner rolls into his pockets just in case, although it was becoming unnecessary. Locking eyes with Harry, he gave a short nod, made excuses to Neville and Hermione, and left the great hall. 

He only had to wait a few moments for Harry to appear. They hugged and set about recounting their days.

“So the snake pit, huh?” Dudley asked with a grin.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Harry smirked back.

“Not with your love of serpents. I bet you’d ask for a resort if they’d put you anywhere else.”

“The hat did consider Ravenclaw, but I’m glad it decided what it did.”

“Hat wanted me for Hufflepuff,” Dudley admitted, a blush rising to his cheeks. He knew there was nothing wrong with being a badger, but he had heard Slytherins whispering about the “throwaway house.” He had a split second of fear Harry wouldn’t be impressed.

“I was wondering why it was taking so long with you,” was all Harry said. He gave no indication one way or the other what he thought about Hufflepuff house.

“How were classes?” Dudley inquired, breaking the lull in the conversation.

“They were alright. Have you had Defense Against the Dark Arts yet?”

“No, we just had Herbology, History of Magic, and Charms today.”

“Well, don’t get your hopes up,” Harry sighed, “Professor Quirrel is as scared as ever. It’s like he expects the students to eat him or something. I doubt we’ll learn anything useful this year. I don’t think Quirrel could defend himself from a rabbit, much less any of those dark creatures. Plus, his classroom smells like the time Petunia tried cooking garlic bread.”

“Bloody hell, we couldn’t get the smell out of the house for a week!”

They laughed hard at the memory of Petunia’s red face scrunched up upon realizing how bad her attempt at cooking had gone. Harry was forced to salvage the meal afterward, much to the chagrin of his aunt. 

“There is something else, though,” Harry started, “I’m not sure it’s anything, really.” Dudley prompted his brother to go on with a nod. “It’s just, my scar hurts wherever I’m around Quirrell. It happened when we met him at Diagon Alley too, but I thought it was just a headache from all the unwanted attention. I doubt it really means anything, though.”

Dudley paused, searching for something to say, “That’s definitely weird. Has your scar ever hurt before? I don’t remember you mentioning anything about it.”

“No. I mean, sometimes I have these dreams, and it hurts then, but I think it’s just phantom pain from when I got it.”

“Well, we don’t know much about your scar except that Voldemort gave it to you. Perhaps we should do some research. Though Hagrid did say, you’re the only person who’s ever survived the killing curse. I’m not sure how much research there would be.”

“You’re right, though. It’s worth a look,” Harry agreed.

“Speaking of strange professors, has Snape given you a hard time?” Dudley inquired. He still saw the man sending hateful looks to Harry at mealtimes.

Harry’s expression darkened minutely before turning into a perfect mask of surprise. “Snape? Why?”

“Because if looks could kill, you’d be dead. You can’t tell me you haven’t seen how he looks at you in the Great Hall.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “There’ve been no problems between Professor Snape and me,” He insisted, “He’s just a bit standoffish.”

Dudley huffed in sarcastic amusement but let the subject drop, “Too bad about Defense, though,” Dudley segued, “I was looking forward to that class.” He frowned, “On that note, don’t get excited about History of Magic either. Total bore. I could barely keep my eyes open.”

“Too bad. I’ll just have to continue my outside studies,” Harry sighed.

“Oh!” Dudley remembered, “I wanted to ask you if I could borrow Hedwig.”

“Why?” 

“I wrote a letter to Hannah- wanted to let her know how I’m doing.”

“Okay,” Harry called down the snowy white bird from her perch and she landed on his shoulder. “Just tell her where to take the letter, and she’ll get it there. Speaking of letters, I got one from Hagrid today. He invited me for tea at his hut after our potions lesson.”

Dudley looked apprehensive, “Are you going to go?” His jury was still out about the overly large man. On the one hand, he believed he didn’t mean any harm and seemed to share Dudley’s love of magical creatures, but he was wary of anyone that drank that much.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted, “I was wondering what you thought.” Harry seemed sheepish. It wasn’t like him to defer to others, and Dudley felt a certain pride that Harry trusted him enough to admit when he wasn't sure about something.

“Maybe we give him one more chance?” Dudley hedged.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to cultivate as many friendships as possible,” Harry contemplated, “But you’ll go with me?”

“Of course,” Dudley assured the black-haired boy. Harry smiled back at him. “Oh! I forgot to mention, me and Dean, another first year in Gryffindor, are trying to put together pick-up football teams. We’re hoping if there’s enough interest we’ll have unofficial teams for all the houses. The rest of the houses seem to be interested; I just need an in with Slytherin,” Dudley gave Harry his best puppy-dog look, even though that was usually his brother’s specialty.

Harry looked at him with a sense of fond exasperation. “I’ll see what I can do,” he acquiesced, “But I can’t promise anything. Footie’s a muggle sport, and I doubt it’ll be popular.”

Dudley smiled at that. “As long as you try!”

Harry checked the watch Dudley had given him as a hand-me-down for Christmas this past year. It was old and had finally gotten too small for his wrist, but it fit Harry just fine. “It’s almost curfew,” he sighed, “We should head back.”

The brothers hugged once more, saying a quiet “goodnight,” before walking to their respective common rooms.

\----

As the week went on, Dudley grew more and more anxious about his first potions lesson. Professor Snape’s leers had not lessened at all. Actually, if you asked Dudley, he would tell you they had increased. On Friday, he breakfasted with the other Gryffindors and trepidatiously ventured to class. Neville seemed to be just as nervous, but Hermione was too abuzz with excitement to notice. She chattered about the potions she hoped they’d cover this year and brewing methods she wanted to try. Dudley found the chatter soothing allowing it to drown out his mind while not taking in any of it. They stopped in front of the potions classroom, Gryffindors and Slytherins separating themselves and occasionally sneering at each other. Though, most of the sneering seemed to be done by Malfoy and Weasley and mostly at each other. Dudley found Harry in the sea of green and smiled nervously. Harry caught his eye and returned a reassuring smile, going back to his conversation with the Zabini boy and a mousy-haired boy Dudley didn’t know.

“Is that Harry Potter?” Hermione squeaked beside him, effectively ending her babbling.

“Er, yeah,” Dudley replied. He could see Harry tense minutely at Hermione’s not so silent exclamation. Zabini and the other boy didn’t seem to notice, and Harry never turned to acknowledge her.

“Do you know him?” She asked breathlessly.

Dudley’s face flushed a bit. Neville was the only person in Gryffindor that knew he and Harry were related, besides Ron. The chubby boy glanced at him questioningly but stayed quiet. “Er, yeah, I do,” he mumbled.

“Did you meet him on the train? What’s he like?” She had her research face on, and he knew she would be like a dog with a bone about the subject.

“No, he’s my cousin,” Dudley whispered, attempting to keep the discussion quiet.

“Your cousin!” Hermione exclaimed.

Dudley sighed, resigned. There was no way the whole hall hadn’t heard her shout. Heads turned in their direction, overly interested in the conversation. Dudley locked eyes with Harry, silently trying to apologize. Harry shrugged in reply. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Deciding to get it all out in the open, he clarified loudly, “Yes, Harry Potter is my cousin. We grew up together.”

“But you’re muggle-born!” Hermione protested.

“You seem to forget, Granger, that Harry’s mother was muggle-born as well,” Zabini spoke up. “It is entirely possible they are related by that line.” At her dumbstruck face, he flashed her his trademark smirk.

“My mother is Harry’s mum’s sister,” Dudley filled in. He was finishing his sentence as the door swung open, revealing the dour potions master.

They stared at him, expecting a greeting, but all they received was: “Well, come in! We haven’t got all day!”

Snape started the lesson taking the role as many professors did stopping at Dudley’s name. “Ah, yes, Mr. Dursley, cousin of the  _ esteemed  _ Harry Potter.  _ Quite  _ the claim to fame.” Making it clear he had heard the conversation in the hall. His black eyes roved over Dudley before shooting a look at Harry. He obviously thought Dudley’s loud explanation was him bragging instead of trying to clear up the confusion. It didn’t appear that Snape had grown any happier about Harry being in his house, though he wouldn’t voice it blatantly. Dudley cast yet another glance at Harry, who was gritting his teeth. Not for the first time, Dudley worried about Harry’s time in the snake pit. He could feel himself growing angry. Harry hadn’t asked for his fame, and his head of house couldn’t see that. He didn’t pause at Harry’s name, but it was said with a bit more of a sneer than the others.

Snape proceeded to go on a tirade about potions with a holier-than-thou attitude. Dudley had no doubt Snape had the skills to back it up, but it still didn’t win him any points in Dudley’s book.

“Dursley!” Snape snapped suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Next to him, Hermione’s hand shot in the air.

Dudley thought back to what he remembered from his textbook. He knew enough about plants to know that asphodel was a type of lily and types of wormwood were used to make absinthe, a bit of knowledge he wished he didn’t have, but he didn’t know what they would make together. However, Hannah always told him that a wrong answer was better than no answer because he could at least say he tried.

“Er, a calming potion?” He guessed. He had researched alcoholic properties with Harry because of Vernon’s habits, and he knew the substance was a depressant.

“Incorrect. Potter, the correct answer?” Snape’s head whipped to the other side of the classroom.

“Draught of Living Death, sir,” Harry replied in a clear voice. Snape seemed surprised but hid it well.

“Let’s try again, shall we? Dursley, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Hermione’s hand went up again. 

“In the potions cupboard?” Dudley snarked back, thoroughly fed up with the situation. A teacher picking on him he could handle, but no one tried to make a fool of his little brother. 

“Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek,” The Gryffindors groaned. “Potter?” Snape asked.

“In the stomach of a goat, sir,” Harry answered.

“It appears  _ someone _ opened a book before coming to class. Perhaps fame isn’t so blinding. One more time. “What is the difference, Dursley, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Dudley lit up. He knew this one!

“They’re the same plant, sir,” he said smugly. 

Snape wasn’t phased. “And the plant’s other name?”

_ Crap _ . He knew he had read it somewhere but couldn’t think of it.

“Aconite,” He heard Neville’s faint whisper next to him. Unfortunately, Snape had heard him too.

“I did not ask you, Longbottom,” Snape hissed. Neville shrunk into himself, appearing terrified. Dudley took note of his reaction. Neville was shy at the best of times, but his bodily response to Snape was all too familiar. Vernon had caused that reaction in both him and Harry; it almost seemed like Neville expected to be hit. Dudley began to wonder about Neville’s home life, piecing together the bits of stories he’d been told.  _ Was Neville being abused? _ One thing was for sure, though; Snape had just made sure Neville would never speak up in his class ever again. 

\----

As soon as they dove into the actual lesson, Dudley knew he was screwed. On the board, Snape wrote a set of instructions to brew the Cure for Boils, and the words started to swim before his eyes. The tilted handwriting didn’t help at all. Dudley was paired with Neville, and he soon found out that was one of the biggest mistakes he could’ve made. Because Neville was so nervous, he kept making mistakes. And because Dudley couldn’t see the instructions, he had no way to help the other boy. Snape swept about the classroom criticizing everyone's potions except for Malfoy’s, even though Harry and Blaise’s potion looked just as good. Snape seemed to stop frequently behind Blaise and Harry just to breathe down their necks. Dudley saw red. Underneath his fingers, the cauldron simmered more than it should’ve. Finally, the dangerous cocktail of Dudley’s anger, Neville’s lack of potions ability, and unreadable instructions came to a head. The potion exploded outward onto him and Neville, barely missing Hermione. Neville got the brunt of it, collapsing onto the floor and moaning in pain. Dudley felt the boils erupt on his arms but didn’t complain. He had suffered worse.

“Idiot boy!” Snape snapped at both of them. He vanished the botched potion with a wave of his wand. Dudley stopped paying attention when Snape shouted something about porcupine quills, too focused on Neville’s wounds. He bent over his friend, trying to assess the damage. Neville was covered in angry red boils and looked minutes from passing out. Dudley’s hearing came back just as Snape demanded, “You thought it funny to let him muck up the potion?”

How could Snape care about their potion when Neville needed desperate medical attention? He grit his teeth to try to stave off the urge to punch the professor in his big ugly nose. 

“Sir?” His brother spoke up, “It appears Longbottom needs help, perhaps you have a potion?”

Snape regarded Harry for a moment before snapping at Dudley, “Get him to the hospital wing!”

Dudley scooped up Neville, thankful for the strength boxing and wrestling had given him. He was headed out into the hall when he realized he didn’t know where the hospital wing was. Dudley was livid. His friend was hurt, barely coherent with pain, and Snape had sent a first year to get him to the hospital wing. He could barely make it to the great hall alone.

He walked up the stairs from the dungeons deciding to head in the direction of Gryffindor tower in the hopes of finding someone. Neville groaned, nuzzled into his chest, and then promptly passed out. He had just passed the second-floor corridor when a female voice called him back.

“Mr. Dursley! What are you doing outside of class?” McGonagall approached him. “Is that Mr. Longbottom?” She cried.

“Yes, Ma’am, we had a mishap in potions. I’m trying to get him to the hospital wing, but I don’t know where it is,”

She regarded him, taking in the sight of his arms, which had grown worse with the boils. “Maybe we should levitate Mr. Longbottom? I can conjure a stretcher for him,” She did so and motioned for Dudley to put him down on it. In the interactions he’d had with his head of house, she seemed to be the kind of person he could come to trust. Except, he felt the protective urges he only got around Harry flare to life. An irrational part of him was afraid to put Neville down. He gave in however at his Professor’s stern look. He dutifully followed her to the hospital wing. She muttered about first year potions classes, Snape, and putting Slytherins together with Gryffindors for classes the entire way.

Madam Pomfrey, the resident healer, was a nice but stern witch. She immediately set to work on Neville, asking Dudley a string of questions about what had happened. She then produced several potions and massaged them down Neville’s throat. He groaned, but his body relaxed somewhat. He still didn’t wake. She then fussed over Dudley, giving him the same cocktail of potions. They each tasted disgusting, but he dutifully swallowed them. He felt better almost immediately, and the boils already seemed to be diminishing. She then handed him a topical cream to put on his marred skin before applying it to Neville. 

“Will Neville be alright, Madam Pomfrey?”

“Yes, dear, but I think he’ll have to stay overnight,” She smiled good-naturedly at him. “He needs to stay until all the boils have drained, as do you,” She added sternly. Turning back towards Neville, she muttered, “Honestly, what was Severus thinking, sending a first year to take him to the hospital?”

It took an hour for Dudley’s boils to go down completely. He was reluctant to leave Neville’s side, but the boy still hadn’t awoken. Madam Pomfrey patted him on the back and reassured him that he would have his friend back by tomorrow morning.

With that, he set off towards Hagrid’s hut, hoping Harry was still there. He padded up the stone walkway and knocked on the door. He could hear loud barking coming from inside. Hagrid shouted something to “Fang,” who must have been the dog, when his large face peeked through the door.

“Dudley!” He smiled. “Harry mentioned you might be stoppin’ by.”

“Er, yeah. Is he still here?”

“Sure ‘e is! ‘E’s been enjoyin’ some tea and me rock cakes,” Hagrid ushered Dudley into the hut keeping a tight leash on Fang. Dudley spotted Harry in the corner sitting at a round table nursing a cup of tea. The rock cake Hagrid mentioned was barely touched. Harry seemed to be wearily eyeing the large bloodhound that was Fang. Dudley didn’t blame him; dogs brought up unpleasant memories for both of them, mostly caused by Dudley’s aunt Marge’s bulldogs. He remembered clearly the time Harry was chased into a tree, and Dudley tried to call them off, managing to get an awful bite in the process.

“Is Neville okay?” Harry addressed Dudley.

“No,” Dudley bit out. Neville had suffered a great many injuries and cruelty from someone who was supposed to be a teacher. Harry paled slightly, so Dudley explained. “He has boils all over his body. Madam Pomfrey says she’s able to cure him, but he has to spend a night in the infirmary.”

The color came back into Harry’s cheeks at that.

“Neville?” Hagrid asked, “Is that the Longbottom boy? What ‘appened to ‘im?”

“He had a mishap in potions class this afternoon,” Harry supplied.

“More than a mishap, I’d say,” Dudley growled, “I swear Snape couldn’t care less if he lived or died.”

“I can’t believe that’s true,” Hagrid protested.

“Oh, so leaving another first year to take him to the hospital wing was a good idea? If McGonagall hadn’t found me, I wouldn’t have found my way there. Who knew what would’ve happened then?”

“Professor Snape’s a guarded man bu’ I can’ believe he’d leave a student’s life in jeopardy,” Hagrid hedged.

“Well, he seems to have it in for me, if not Neville,” Dudley sighed.

Harry’s eyes shifted to his brother and then down at his plate.

“He’s jus’ not fond o’ Gryffindors, tha’s all.”

“It’s not just me,” Dudley declared, “He doesn’t seem to like Harry either. And Harry’s a Slytherin.” Harry scowled at his plate. There must have been a confrontation beyond the potions class that Harry hadn’t told him. But now wasn’t the time to press. Harry wouldn’t want to air his dirty laundry in front of Hagrid.

Dudley changed the subject, and the conversation became more enjoyable for everyone. Dudley and Hagrid got on the subject of magical creatures, the two doing most of the talking with some input from Harry. After about an hour, they made their excuses and started towards the castle together.

“Something’s going on between you and Snape,” It wasn’t a question. Harry didn’t reply but faced forward, not looking at his brother. “Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to annoy it out of you?”

“It’s nothing, Lee,”

“It didn’t seem like nothing in class. I may not be as observant as you about the nuances of conversation, but I’m not dumb, Harry. He’s singling you out.”

“He just wasn’t expecting me to be in Slytherin, that’s all. He has to get used to it. Everyone was betting I’d be in Gryffindor.”

“There’s more to it than that, and you know it,” Dudley pressed. When Harry was silent again, he pulled the other boy to a stop in front of him, placing his hands on the smaller boy’s shoulders. “Are you really okay in Slytherin?”

Harry violently shrugged off Dudley’s hands, “Merlin, Lee. I don’t know, okay! I don’t know why he hates me!” Dudley resisted the urge to hug him. “You just don’t understand... Everyone watches you in Slytherin. There are eyes all the time. And I have so much to overcome: my half-blood status, the history of Gryffindors in my family. Nobody trusts Slytherins, and we certainly don’t speak about our inter-house problems outside the common room.”

“What happened to not keeping secrets between brothers? What do you think? I’ll go blabbing to every Gryffindor within earshot?” Dudley demanded.

“I’m not trying to keep secrets from you. I really don’t know what Snape has against me, but I’m trying to find out. I know you want to protect me, but at some point, I have to fight my own battles, Lee.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to fight alone,” Dudley begged, “Harry, you-we’ve been through so much.”

“Just- try to trust me? I promise I’ll come to you when I need help,” Harry’s eyes were pleading.

Dudley nodded against his will. He understood; they both had separate lives now, different friends and dormmates. Yet, there would always be a part of him that desperately needed to shield his little brother from the outside world. But Harry was ready to leave the nest. Dudley knew he was capable. They walked in silence the rest of the way.

Just as they were about to part ways, Harry said, “You should get a subscription to  _ The Prophet _ . There was an interesting article today. Apparently, someone broke into Gringotts the same day we were there, but the vault they broke into had ‘been cleared out that day.’”

“You think it was the vault Hagrid visited with us.”

“It seems too fishy to be a coincidence,” Harry agreed, “Which begs the question, who would go to the trouble of breaking into a bank that’s supposed to be impenetrable? And for such a small package?”

They said their goodbyes, but Harry’s question haunted his mind all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. Who indeed?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dudley tries his hand at flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with an update! I hope everyone is staying safe out there in these troubling times. I am fortunately still working or else this would've been up much sooner.  
> I reassessed my outline and I think there will be twelve chapters based on how I broke things down originally and how I'm actually breaking chapters up. It's still an estimate though.  
> My only beta is Grammarly so I'm sorry if there are glaring grammar mistakes.  
> As always I hope you enjoy!  
> Edited 8/1/2020: Nothing major just a little bit of clean-up.

About two weeks after the potions incident, fliers appeared on the notice board in Gryffindor tower. Neville and Dudley crowded around everyone else to get a good look. Apparently, the first years would be starting flying lessons later that week. The fliers must have appeared in every common room because Ron and Draco seemed particularly excited about them. They made it a contest of who could boast about flying better. Ron’s argument hinged on his practices with his brothers, and Malfoy liked to brag about the superior brooms his father could afford. By the time the lesson finally rolled around, everyone was excited for the constant confrontations to end. 

Neville, on the other hand, seemed particularly nervous about the lessons, almost as nervous as he had been for potions. “I’m not very good on a broom. I have a fear of heights,” He admitted to Dudley one day. _Of course, he’d have a fear of heights after being dropped out a window._ “I’m not very good at sports in general. Gran says I’m just too big- I don’t have the physique of a Quidditch player,” He was very despondent about this. Dudley could feel his anger rising once again. Nevile had been told he couldn’t do something before he could even try. His grandmother seemed to be setting him up for failure. And the comment about his weight, well Dudley knew how he felt. His size had always been a sore spot, and kids had often bullied him over it. Sports had helped turn his chub into muscle. But Neville was afraid to even try.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t be good at all sports. The wizarding world might be limited to games on brooms, but the muggle world plays all its sports on the ground. You should try out for the football team me and Dean are putting together,” Neville didn’t seem convinced. “It's all for fun, so there’s no pressure. I’ll even help you train before tryouts.”

“I-I guess,” He reluctantly agreed.

“That’s the spirit!” Dudley laughed, clapping Neville lightly on the back. “Besides, I was never a footie player; I wrestled and boxed in primary.” Neville looked utterly lost. “They’re both combat sports. Boxing is where you use your fists to try to knock another person out, and if they stay down, you win the round. Wrestling is sort of the same, but instead of punching, people use their arms to grapple other people. There’s a lot more to it, of course.”

“So, it’s like physical dueling?” Neville asked.

“Yeah! That’s why I was so disappointed that Flitwick doesn’t take first years. So me and Dean decided to put together the footie teams. Don’t worry, Nev; you’ll be great.”

The first year still didn't look convinced, but Dudley was determined to get him a spot on the team.

\---

Madam Hooch was exactly like every other P.E. teacher Dudley had ever had: athletic, loud, and crazy about a specific sport. She didn’t so much tell them the instructions for riding a broom as bark them at the students. Dudley had positioned himself between Neville and Hermione. He was only half thrilled to see the Slytherins were partnering with them for these lessons; Harry was a relief, but he was worried about what the other pure-bloods might say about Hermione and Neville. He hoped for their sake, Harry had been able to get more of a foothold in the house. As usual, Ron and Draco were arguing, directly facing each other and having a go whenever they thought Madam Hooch couldn’t hear. Every time Draco would taunt Ron, Zabini or the mousy-haired-boy would make a comment to Harry who would grin and snark back. Every now and then, his brother would discreetly wink at him.

Madam Hooch placed herself at the front of the line of brooms. “Everyone place your dominant hand over the broom and say up!”

Shouts of “UP!” filled the air. Hermione wasn’t having the best time getting her broom into her hand; only a couple of students had gotten it on the first try. Surprisingly, Harry had been one of the few, and the smaller boy appeared just as befuddled by it as his brother. Harry had never been the sporty type, but then that was muggle sports. Perhaps wizarding ones were different.

After a few more tries, Dudley managed to get the broom into his hand. He looked over to Hermione and Neville, encouraging them both, “More confidence, Neville, you’ve got this!” and, “I think it can tell you’re getting frustrated, Hermione, try coaxing it up.”

Finally, both his friends had enticed the broom into their hands.

When Madam Hooch told them to mount their brooms, Dudley knew something was wrong the second Neville swung his right foot over the broom. His friend’s broom had been jerky, everyone’s had, but it continued to vibrate in his hand. Instead of hovering like they were supposed to, it jolted upward. Dudley acted without thinking. He immediately swung his leg over his broom and rose with Neville to try to bring him down again. Just as the broom was about to take him ten feet off the ground, Dudley yanked the back of his robes to unseat him, and they both tumbled down to the ground. Dudley heard a crunch and felt a sharp pain in his right wrist where Neville had landed.

Madam Hooch immediately rushed over to them. “That was very irresponsible!” She yelled, “You could’ve been seriously injured!”

Neville pulled himself up with help from Hermione, and Dudley picked himself up, wincing when his right hand collided with his leg on the way up. “I just didn’t want him to get hurt, Madam Hooch,” Dudley explained, “It seemed like his broom was out of sorts.”

“Then you should have let me handle it,” She argued.

“Yes, Madam Hooch,” Dudley sullenly replied. They got five points taken from Gryffindor, but Neville looked especially relieved at not getting seriously injured, and Madam Hooch did get him a new broom.

Dudley and Neville’s excitement at the beginning of class was soon forgotten when Weasley and Malfoy decided to see who could best each other, even though they still hadn’t been given permission to hover more than five feet off the ground. They almost came to fisticuffs in the air when Madam Hooch had to mount her broom and bring them both down by their ears. She barked something about expulsion, Slytherin and Gryffindor antics, and going to their heads of houses before screaming, “Dismissed!” Behind her at the rest of the students.

“Well, that was quite an eventful lesson,” Zabini sidled up to Dudley, Hermione, and Neville.

“Blaise Zabini, I don’t believe we’ve met formally,” He said, smiling widely and holding his hand out to Hermione. She shook it, and he didn’t seem at all offended by her lack of wizarding knowledge. 

“Hermione Granger,” She replied, blushing.

“Heir Longbottom,” The mousy-haired-boy held out his arm, “Well met.”

“Well met, Heir Nott,” Neville replied, grasping the other boy’s forearm.

“Theodore Nott, Heir of House Nott,” He shyly introduced himself to Dudley and Hermione. Hermione and Dudley took the proffered hand, Dudley wincing significantly when the other boy clasped it. “But everyone just calls me Theo.”

“Good to meet you,” Dudley grunted, trying to hide his pain.

“And, of course, this one needs no introduction,” Zabini presented Harry with a wave of his hand. 

Hermione looked bashful. “Sorry about that the other day,” She admitted holding out her hand, “I’m not always tactful.” 

“It’s no worries, really,” Harry assuaged her guilt.

“I wonder if Weasley and Malfoy will be allowed back into lessons?” Hermione asked.

Zabini quipped as they started to walk, “Well, seeing as how they know everything about riding a broom, I suppose they won’t need it, will they?” There was sniggering from both parties at that. 

Harry drifted to the back of the crowd, and Dudley followed him.

“You’re hurt,” Harry muttered, his eyes firmly facing front, “You should have it looked at.”

“It’s just a sprained wrist. I can wrap it myself,” Dudley scoffed.

“It seems broken to me, Lee, and I think you know that,” Harry discreetly glanced at Dudley, but his face was stoic. “You don’t have to fight alone either, Lee. We’re not there. You don’t have to fear reprisal for getting your wrist looked at.”

“What if she finds something else? Something from before?” Dudley’s voice quavered. 

“She won’t. She didn’t when you were there for boils, right?”

“No, she didn’t. But still.”

“Then we’ll figure something out. They have no reason to assume it wasn’t a boxing injury. They’re not going to separate us, Lee. I won’t let them,” Harry growled.

“Well, if the Great Harry Potter won't let them, then they can’t!” Dudley exclaimed then burst into laughter. Harry giggled at his brother’s antics, and the others shook their heads fondly. Harry and Dudley caught up to the group who decided to study in the library together before their next class. Dudley made his excuses and said he’d be back soon.

\-----

Harry was right; Madam Pomphrey had not thought anything of it when he came in with his wrist. She reprimanded him for not telling Madam Hooch, but it was fixed in a jiffy. 

The study session with the Slytherins was surprisingly enjoyable. Blaise and Theo were nothing like Malfoy. Hermione asked a multitude of somewhat invasive questions about their lives as pure-bloods, but neither seemed offended. Blaise relayed his distance from pure-blood mania because of his upbringing in Italy. Apparently, the wizarding community there was much more laid back. Theo was from a traditional pure-blood family but had just as many questions for Hermione and Dudley about muggle life.

“You have an interest in muggle culture?” Dudley opened up the conversation further.

“Ever since I learned about batteries. The ways muggles have managed around magic is incredible. In some ways, they're even more advanced than we are. I think healers could learn a lot from doctors. I want to find a way to get electronics to function around magic. I think the combined energies would open up so many doors to different fields,” The small boy gushed.

“Are you interested in muggle sports at all?” Dudley inquired. Harry let out a groan; he knew what was coming. Blaise looked faintly amused by the exchange.

“Some, sure,” Theo sent Harry a confused glance, “I’ve always wanted to go to a football or rugby match. But my father would never dream of mingling with muggles.”

“What would you say to being on a football team? Some of the Gryffindors are trying to put together some matches. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are in, but we’d love to have all four houses.”

“Well, I’ve never played, and I only have a rudimentary knowledge of the rules,” The small boy hedged.

“Sure, but if I were to explain them to you, do you think you could put a team together for Slytherin? There have to be more people that have muggle interests besides you. A few half-bloods, maybe? Harry would be more than willing to help you. He’s going to try out too, aren’t you, Harry?” Dudley gave Harry a saccharine smile, and his brother returned it with a kick under the table. Blaise burst out laughing at the exchange and received a glare from Hermione, who hissed, “We’ll be thrown out.”

Theo answered Dudley, “I suppose I could, but if it ever got back to my father, it wouldn’t be pleasant.” He suppressed a shudder.

“I’m trying out,” Neville spoke up. His boldness shocked the entire table. Dudley knew the other boy hadn’t been too keen on the idea this morning. He was glad to hear the conviction in Neville’s words, “And my Gran has always said that I’d be rubbish at sports. She’d never support me, but I don’t care. It seems like it could be fun, so I’m not letting my Gran hold me back from it. I don’t know a thing about the sport, but Dudley said he’d help me train. He could help you too so that you could captain a team,” his little speech moved everyone. Dudley was so proud of Neville for committing to this despite his grandmother’s harsh words.

“But wouldn’t that be helping the enemy?” Blaise drawled, “Who’s to say you won’t lead poor Theo astray?”

“Well, first off, this is just for fun. There’d be no gain in leading him astray. Besides, it’s more like giving everyone even footing. If you get someone else on the team that can teach everyone, you can take their advice. But I don’t see any reason Theo should be left out just because he doesn’t know how to play.”

“Such Gryffindors,” Blaise mocked, but when he grinned, Dudley saw the first real smile on his face.

“Okay, then, I don’t see why not. That is if I can get enough people interested. I think Daphne has an interest in muggle things, and she’s more sporty than she looks. She could easily beat Draco in a one-on-one Quidditch match.”

“It’s decided then. I’ll check when the pitch is free, and hopefully, we can start training during our free period on Friday.”

With the issue of football settled, they turned to their textbooks and began to study. 

\----

The next morning, Neville and Dudley were late getting up. The charm Harry had taught Dudley to alert him when to wake up didn’t go off. They slept so long that they didn’t have enough time to make it breakfast. Both boys rushed through their routines, dressing quickly. Dudley was glad he had a stash of food to eat. He offered a few of the rolls to Neville as they went down to the common room. Entering the common room, they realized they were some of the only people left. Stepping out of the portrait hole, Dudley knew they were screwed. Their first class of the day was transfiguration, and Dudley only knew the way from the great hall. There was no sense in asking Neville; he had one of the worst sense of directions Dudley had ever come across. Dudley drew himself up and decided to head in the direction of the great hall seeing no other option. They’d probably both get detention for being late, but it was unavoidable. Maybe they’d be lucky, and a ghost would tell them the way. Nearly Headless Nick had been friendly and helpful whenever Dudley had spoken to him. Dudley set off as confidently as he could Neville trailing behind him.

“Er, isn’t this the way to the Great Hall?” Neville questioned tentatively.

“Yeah, but I can’t remember how to get to McGonagall’s class from the tower.”

“But won’t we be late?” Dudley could hear Neville trembling without looking at him.

“Probably, but don’t worry, Nev. The worst she can do is put us in detention. I doubt she’d be too hard on her own house,” The other boy didn’t look reassured.

Walking briskly, the boys made it to the staircases that would lead them down to the Great Hall. Dudley helped Neville over the trick stair, but just as they were getting to the bottom, the staircase started to move.

“Oh, no,” Neville moaned. “Now we’re really going to be late.” He seemed on the brink of having an anxiety attack. 

The bottom on the stairs came to rest on a dark corridor. The lamps weren’t lit, and it seemed to be deserted. Dudley glanced back at the way they came. The staircase didn’t seem likely to move again any time soon. They could turn back and try to find a different way from the tower or plunge ahead. Curiosity seemed to get the better of him. _We’re going to be late anyway._

He walked confidently forward, hoping Neville would follow.

“Er, Lee, I’m not sure about this,” Neville murmured. The hall became even more eerily silent as they walked on. “I’m not sure we’re supposed to be here.”

“It’s probably just not used very often,” He tried to assure the shorter boy, “I’m sure there are tons of corridors in this castle people don’t use. Maybe it’ll even be a shortcut,” Dudley infused his voice with more optimism than he felt. He was beginning to agree with Neville; this was starting to feel like a terrible idea.

Peeves came out of nowhere. He appeared to be in the middle of a prank Filch was sure to have to clean up. “What do we have here? Little firsties in the forbidden third-floor corridor? And when they’re supposed to be in class too,” He seemed to be extremely pleased with himself and was planning to wreak some sort of havoc on them by the vicious smile on his face. When Dudley had wished for a ghost, this was not what he meant. Everyone knew asking Peeves for directions was the worst thing you could do. He would get them even more turned around than they already were.

“For-forbidden?” Neville squeaked.

Peeves' smile grew even wider. “Why, of course. I heard Headmaster Dumbledore talking about it, I did.”

“Oh, Merlin, he’s gonna call Filch,” Neville whispered. Dudley suppressed a groan. If that hadn’t been Peeves’ original plan, it was now.

“Ooh, what a good idea! I’ll call Filthy Filchy! STUDENTS IN THE FORBIDDEN CORRIDOR! STUDENTS OUT OF CLASS!”

Dudley wanted to chide Neville on his lack of thought but now wasn’t the time. Neville’s eyes had grown impossibly round, and he seemed to be rooted to the spot.

“Come on!” Dudley yanked the other boy's arm and ran off in the other direction. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly want to be mopping floors for a week!” They screeched to a halt where the stairs should’ve been.

“Crap,” Dudley swore. “We’ll just have to keep going.” Behind them, they could hear Filch’s excited voice talking about various punishments they would receive when he caught them. They dead-ended into a locked door. “Crap, crap, crap,” Dudley did it without thinking. He rammed his shoulder into the door, hoping it would open. The lock looked old so maybe... _The lock!_

“Neville, throw me two quills!” The other boy scrambled to find them inside his school bag. He passed them to Dudley, who immediately began to work on picking the lock. Finally, he heard the click and turned. The door sprang inwards, and the boys jumped in, slamming it shut behind them. They took a second to steady their breathing. Neville doubled over and braced his hands on his knees while Dudley leaned his back against the wall. Breathing settled, Dudley opened his eyes to take in the room they stumbled into. Expecting an abandoned classroom, he got quite a shock. Dudley was face to face with the largest dog he had ever seen. A Cerberus. Drool dripped from its three maws while it let out a loud snore. Dudley was in awe. _A real Cerberus!_ He had read about them in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,_ but he never thought he’d see one. Then his awe turned to horror. A Cerberus. A vicious three-headed-dog that could easily eat both boys in one bite. They needed to get out as quietly as possible; there was no telling what would happen if it woke up. Just as the thought occurred to him, the beast started to blink open its six eyes. 

Neville tugged on his sleeves, “Dudley,” He whimpered, staring into the eyes of one of the heads. Sitting up, the dog let out a low growl. They were so screwed.

He frantically tried to remember what he had read about the beasts. They fed on raw flesh; in Greek mythology, they were controlled by Hades, God of the underworld. Harry had gone through a phase a couple of years earlier in which he was obsessed with Greek mythology, and Dudley knew there was a story about a hero and the hound of Hades. 

“Hercules?” He muttered to himself. “No... Odysseus? No... Orpheus! The musician. Music! We need music, Neville.”

“I- d-don’t s-sing.”

“Okay, I’ll sing a lullaby, and then you ease out of the room first. I’ll keep singing until I join you in the hall. Go.” The boy backed out behind him, slowly opening the door as he began to sing, “Tell me why the stars do shine, tell me why the ivy twines, tell me why the sky’s so blue, then I will tell you why I love you,” The song was one his mother sang to him as a child when he couldn’t sleep. Dudley had taken up the practice with Harry, trying to soothe the boy while he treated his back. He never professed to have the best singing voice, but Harry never complained. The dog didn’t seem to have any problem either, its eyes beginning to slide shut once more. He took a deep breath and continued, “Because God made the stars to shine,” He took a step back. “Because God made the ivy twine,” He took two more steps. “Because God made the sky so blue,” He reached the doorway and took a step backward into the hall. “Because God made you, that’s why I love you,” He slammed the door shut on the last word.

The boys walked in silence back to where the stairs had been to find them waiting for them. Neville was still shaking as he climbed back to the tower. Dudley didn’t know what to say. Who would keep something like that in a school? With only a locked door between the students? A school full of nosy, prank-loving children who were bound to test limits of where they should and shouldn’t go? He thought back to Dumbledore’s speech their first night. _Die a most painful death_. A painful death indeed.

When they were safely inside Gryffindor tower, they decided to take a breather until lunch. Dudley’s mind continued to reel as he sat in a plush armchair by the hearth. The headmaster had to have a good reason for keeping the dog here, or else what was the point; he didn’t seem like a malicious man. Then, a thought struck him. The Cerberus in Greek mythology was primarily a guard dog; it guarded the entrance to the underworld. So maybe it was guarding something valuable? And Harry said it was too much of a coincidence for the Gringotts vault they visited to have been robbed the same day it was emptied. Putting the pieces together, Dudley had no doubt the dog was guarding whatever was in that vault. He was intrigued, but too worn out to think about it anymore. There would be time later to talk to Harry, who would treat it like an interesting puzzle, and Hermione, who would likely chastise them before completely contradicting herself by excitingly asking far too many questions. He was glad their next class was DADA, and he wouldn’t have to think too much. 

After the long silence, Neville said, “I am never, ever, going to be late to breakfast again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby is something my mom always sang to me before I went to sleep. I don't know the actual origin of it or else I would've given credit. I think it's a children's hymn but if anyone knows different let me know!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dudley and the gang learn more about the mysterious object and football plans advance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm so sorry it's been a while since I've updated. I had some trouble getting my meds because of COVID and my brain has trouble producing happy chemicals by itself so I didn't have any motivation for a little while there. I also had to do some research on soccer because I have very limited experience with the sport. And then on top of that, this chapter did not want to be written.  
> I also want to say that although I'm horrible at answering comments, they mean so much to me! I'm always happy to look in my inbox and see another one. I'm thankful it's always been positive so far.  
> I promise you won't have to wait so long for the next update.  
> As always I hope you enjoy!  
> Edited 8/2/2020: No major changes just clean-up.

Dudley wasn't able to see Harry until their potions lesson on Friday. He was anxious all week to hear what Harry would say about his and Neville’s adventures in the forbidden corridor. Once he explained his thoughts about what the Cerberus could be hiding, Hermione and Neville both agreed with Dudley’s analysis.

“Well, you said the package was small?” Hermione asked yet again.

“Yes, ‘Mione, but there are a thousand valuable small items,” Dudley droned, “It could be the bloody crown jewels for all I know.” He then had to explain the crown jewels to Neville.

“I wish we had just a bit more information,” Hermione whined. 

“Are we really sure we want to be digging into this?” Neville asked, “I don’t particularly want to meet that dog again. Besides, it’s not really our business, is it?”

“Maybe not, but I feel we have a right to know why we were almost eaten in a school,” Dudley grumbled.

The three bickered in hushed voices all the way to their potions lesson. Harry was already there animatedly talking to Blaise, who was leaning against the stone wall. Theo was the first to notice their approach, and to Dudley’s surprise, he visibly perked up at their appearance. 

Dudley strode over to his cousin. “We need to talk,” He hissed to his brother.

“Is it about football practice today?” Nott asked, hopefully.

“Oh, bloody hell, Theo,” Dudley swore, “I’m sorry, I forgot. Something happened the other day that has me all messed up. That’s why we need to talk. Alone,” He glanced at the other boys.

“There’s no need, Lee. I trust them. I’m guessing Neville and Hermione already know whatever this is?” Dudley gave a curt nod. “Then I see no reason to leave Blaise and Theo out.”

They were cut off before Dudley could argue. Snape beckoned them inside with a sneered, “Enter.”

Potions passed in a blur. Dudley was vaguely aware that Hermione managed to save his and Neville’s potion from exploding, and Snape was his usual snarky self. Oddly, Harry seemed to be simmering with anger. He bristled whenever Snape walked by and hissed something to him. He watched as Blaise put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Obviously, whatever grudge Snape had against Harry hadn’t abated. Dudley all but ran out of class when it finished. He, Neville, and Hermione waited for the Slytherin trio to leave.

“Library,” Harry hissed as he passed. The five other first years dutifully followed. They grabbed a hidden table in the rarely used history of magic section. “So, what’s so important?” Harry snapped.

Dudley ignored his tone, knowing it was a result of Snape’s harsh treatment. Dudley began to summarize the adventure with inputs from Neville. There were mixed expressions all around. Blaise’s typically casual demeanor had dissolved into one of concern. Harry’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and Theo looked white. 

“That was quick thinking using music,” Theo praised, “I wouldn’t have put that together.”

“I think it was more dumb luck than anything else,” Dudley admitted.

“You said you thought it was guarding something?” Blaise asked.

Dudley looked at Harry, the other boy putting the pieces together. “Vault 713,” He whispered.

“That’s what we thought too,” Dudley agreed, “It seems like too much of a coincidence.”

Blaise and Theo looked bewildered. “Anyone care to fill us in?” Blaise quirked an eyebrow.

So Harry took on explaining about their first trip to Gringotts and the small parcel that Hagrid picked up while they were there.

The first thing out of Blaise’s mouth was not what the two boys were expecting, “There are so many things wrong with that story. But first, Hagrid has your vault key?”

“Er, yeah?” Harry was off-put. Glancing around, Dudley saw that in addition to Blaise’s worried face, Neville and Theo seemed concerned as well. “Is that bad?”

“Well, it’s certainly not proper,” Theo answered, “You may only be an heir, but because the title of Lord Potter is currently unfilled and your guardians are muggles, it falls on you to make financial decisions regarding The House of Potter. You should most certainly have your key. Besides, someone with your key has access to your vault.”

“That’s another thing; you didn’t check with the goblins to see if you could claim the Lordship?” Blaise inquired.

“Maybe they just didn’t have time?” Neville suggested.

“Was it even mentioned?” Theo asked.

“No. I had no idea. I thought I would have to reach wizarding majority to do that.”

“Actually in most noble families a child can claim lordship at age thirteen,” Hermione piped up.

Harry’s eyes went wide. “I’m interested in government,” Hermione supplied, “I’ve done quite a bit of research on who can and can’t have a seat on the Wizengamot,” She huffed.

Dudley’s head was spinning at the turn in the conversation. He was still lost in regards to the wizarding ruling classes and government. Maybe he could get Theo to explain things to him in exchange for answering some questions about muggle life.

“Did they at least give you a list of your assets and properties?” Blaise demanded. Harry shook his head. “We’re going to have to schedule a Gringotts visit over the break.” 

Neville looked thoughtful, “You could key Dudley into the Potter family magicks. He would have access to your vaults and properties. It would effectively make him Heir Potter when you take the lordship. I’ll talk to Gran about taking you; she’d be more than delighted to help the savior of the wizarding world,” Neville said the last bit with mock enthusiasm. Harry grimaced at Neville’s previous statement, but all Dudley could feel was grateful. If he had legitimate access to the Potter vault, he didn’t have to bother Harry every time he needed money for school supplies. The money would be  _ theirs, _ not solely Harry’s. Not that he was that thrilled at being “Heir Potter.”

“It’s settled then, we’ll ask Snape if Neville can pick you up,” Blaise decided. Harry scowled at that. “He’s still your head of house even if you don’t like him. He still has to approve you going.”

Harry muttered something like: “The dislike is mutual.”

“So now that we’ve established that Hagrid never should’ve escorted us to Diagon Alley, can we talk about what that dog might be guarding?” Dudley tried to get them back on track.

“But that’s just it. It could be anything,” Harry mused, “I guess we’ll need to do a bit of digging. We should be discrete about it though,” He gave a pointed look to the Gryffindors, “We have no idea who might be involved and what they might do if they find us sniffing around.”

“I think you may have already lost that advantage,” A posh voice drawled from behind them. All six heads whipped around to see a smirking Draco Malfoy emerge from the shadows.

“How long have you been there?” Dudley growled.

“Easy, Dursley,” The blonde put both his hands up in a placating gesture, “I’m not going to harm your little band of Gryffindors. Though I am rather surprised to see Snakes conspiring with Lions.”

“What do you want, Draco?” Harry rubbed his hand over his face.

“Simple, I want in,” No one seemed too keen on this idea. “Of course, I could just go to Professor Snape...” He turned as if to walk away.

Harry sighed, “Alright, Malfoy. You can help. But I swear, if you can’t play nice, you’re out, and we’ll take our chances with Snape. But I will make your life hell, and that’s a promise,” He glared at the other boy who smirked. “Do I need to fill you in on anything?”

“I think I heard enough.”

“Good,” Harry growled, “I think we should all do our own research. We’ll let the others know if we find anything.”

With the meeting dissolved, Theo, Neville, and Dudley decided to reschedule football practice for Saturday.

\-----

“I want to start with some basic drills and warmups,” Dudley announced to Theo and Neville. The boys were standing in the middle of the quidditch pitch. Dudley had Dean’s football tucked under his arm, and he had donned his boxing shorts and a t-shirt. Neville and Theo seemed to have acquired quidditch robes. Dudley doubted it would be comfortable for long periods of time; he’d have to go about finding them proper football uniforms and securing cleats if possible. That was yet another thing he needed to talk to Dean about. 

Dudley had gained last-minute access to the quidditch pitch from Madam Hooch. The flying instructor seemed intrigued by Dudley’s idea. With a wink, she offered to referee the games after brushing up on the rules.

“Football is a running sport, so we need to make sure our legs are warm and stretched before we get into it,” He continued, “I want to start with a few laps around the pitch, and then we can do some stretches and a few more warmups.”

The boys nodded.

“But first, a few very basic rules of the game. No one but the goalkeeper can use their hands. Their position functions a lot like a keeper in quidditch. They make sure this ball,” He gestured to the ball underneath his arm, “doesn’t get into the goal. But that’s the aim of the game. You want to get the ball passed the keeper. Each time you do, it’s a point for your team. That being said, while there are only three chasers on a quidditch team, besides the keeper, all the rest of the players in football function like chasers. Mostly because there is no need for positions like beater or seeker, but they’re split up into defense and offense. Defensive players stay near their goal and try to stop the other team from getting close to the net. Offensive players are on the other side of the field, and they focus on scoring. The positions are more complicated than that, but I think that’s a good enough overview for us to get started.”

Dudley set them to run five laps around the pitch, which he ran with them. Neville had some trouble keeping up with the pace he and Theo set, but he made sure to cheer him the whole way. By the time they were done, the boy was completely winded, and he let him get a drink of water before he demonstrated a few basic leg and arm stretches, an abbreviated version of his own warmup stretches. He then ran them through high-knees, butt kicks, and lunges. 

“Okay, now for the real stuff. Before we can get to scoring and passing, we need to work on footwork. Dean showed me a couple of drills to do, and Theo, you can teach them to the other Slytherins. I’d normally use cones, but since I don’t have any, we’re going to use these textbooks.” He placed them each five yards apart and cast impervious on them, a handy spell Hermione had taught him. Although, he knew his friend would be horrified if she knew he was using his textbooks for football practice. “So first, I just want you to pass the ball between your feet like so,” He plopped the ball down on the ground and passed it from the inside of one foot to the other quickly. “When you have a handle on doing it stationary, we’ll practice moving between the cones while we do it,” He demonstrated that as well and then passed the ball to Theo.

Theo got it quickly and was moving between the make-shift cones in no time. Neville was a different story. It took him a while to build up speed without moving, and then when he went to move between the textbooks, he tripped over himself several times. He grew redder with every blunder. Once he finally made it between the books ten times, he was shaking in embarrassment. Dudley demonstrated the next drill, toe-touches, to Theo and set him doing it while he pulled Neville aside.

“I just- I’m so clumsy!” Neville burst out.

“You’re just getting frustrated and self-conscious. It’s okay if you don’t get it as fast as Theo. I’m not expecting you to be perfect on your first try. It takes time. That’s why we call it practice.”

“But how am I ever going to be ready before tryouts?” Dudley could see frustrated tears brimming in Neville’s eyes.

“We might have to put a little more time into it than we thought. But that’s okay, Nev. I’m gonna be with you every step of the way,” He looked at the boy whose tears were still threatening to fall. “Look, I used to be just like you. I was terrible at sports, I had trouble running in P.E., and, kids teased me all the time about how fat I was. But then I went out for boxing and wrestling, and yeah, it was hard, and yeah, I had to put more effort into the drills than the other kids, but I kept putting the work in, and I made the team. And then because I was putting all the work into it, I didn’t just get as good as my teammates, I got better. When I left my school to come to Hogwarts, I held the record for most regional wins in boxing and second-best in wrestling. So I know you can do it, Neville.”

“You truly think so?” Neville whispered. 

“I truly do,” Dudley smiled at him, “You’re gonna show everyone that’s ever doubted you how wrong they were. Just you wait.”

“Okay,” Neville took a breath, “So how do I do these toe-touches?”

The rest of the practice went better. Neville still tripped over his feet more often than not, but he had a new sense of confidence. Theo seemed to be progressing well and was confident enough to teach the few drills to Daphne and a few others he’d found that were interested. 

After practice, they showered and walked back to the castle.

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” Theo asked.

“I’ve got to finish Professor Snape’s essay,” Neville gave an involuntary shiver.

“Hopefully, Hermione will take pity on us and help us out,” Dudley turned to Theo, “Speaking of Professor Snape, do you know what he has against Harry? I’ve only seen him act that way towards Gryffindors.”

“It is a bit strange; I will admit. I’ve never seen him act like that to any of our other housemates. Harry seems to think nothing’s going to change, no matter what he does. But Blaise and I have been doing some research, and we think Professor Snape must have known Harry’s parents. We found some old yearbooks, and they were all in the same year.” 

“So you think it’s the Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry between Snape and the Potters? But then why would that apply to Harry?” Dudley questioned.

“Well, from what we saw, Professor Snape seemed to be close to a lot of the Slytherins that fell in with the Dark Lord. He’s Draco’s Godfather, and I’m fairly sure Lucius Malfoy was part of the Dark Lord’s inner circle. And the Potters were obviously affiliated with the light. But again, that doesn’t make sense because I’ve never gotten the impression that Professor Snape supports You-Know-Who’s ideals. Besides, it would be dangerous for him to dislike Harry because he defeated the Dark Lord. He could get thrown in Azkaban for that.” 

“Wizarding prison,” Neville clarified before Dudley could ask. 

On his other side, Theo seemed to be putting something together, “But you know how Harry looks a lot like his father?” Dudley nodded, but it was a lie. He’d never seen a picture of his aunt and uncle, and he wasn’t sure Harry had either. Theo continued none the wiser, “James Potter was very popular during his time here, and Professor Snape most definitely was not. I have a feeling whatever it is it has to do with Professor Snape’s relationship with James Potter.”

“Sins of the father,” Dudley muttered, “But Harry doesn’t even know what they are.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later,” Theo sighed.

\-----

They didn’t make any headway on either mystery for a few weeks. No one was keen to ask Professor Snape what his problem was, and they didn’t know anyone else who had gone to school with Snape and the Potters that they could ask. They debated asking a Professor; they knew McGonagall had taught at the school during that time, but she wasn’t the most approachable witch.

The guarded object remained a conundrum as well. No one was keen to go back and check to see if the Cerberus was still there, although they each made rounds to check and see if anyone was coming and going from to the door. However, there was no activity when they looked.

Dudley and Neville continued to train, and the pureblood boy was getting better by the day. Theo started practicing with his own group of Slytherins after a thorough discussion of rules with Dean and some more drills to teach for tryouts. Dean found a free Saturday to hold tryouts and posted a notice on the board in the common room. He reserved the pitch for the entire day so all the houses could hold their tryouts without hassle. Hufflepuff volunteered to go first, Gryffindor next, then Ravenclaw, and lastly, Slytherin.

The day was fast approaching, and Dudley was relieved to find he thought Neville was ready. His footwork had vastly improved, and he was running laps with no trouble. Dudley had seen him jogging on the grounds after class on multiple occasions. He was so happy to see his friend succeeding.

The Friday before tryouts Dudley got a letter back from Hannah.

> Dear Dudley,
> 
> I hope this letter finds you okay. I hope it’s not too cold in the highlands and that you’re staying warm. I’m so happy to read that you’re settling in well at your new school. Your new friends sound lovely. I think your idea about football games is brilliant. I wish I could come up and see one, but Scotland is a bit of a hike, unfortunately. You’ll have to give me a play-by-play in your next letter. I’ve no doubt your team will win. I’m also very proud that you haven’t punched anyone. You’ve come so far from when we met. I hope you know how much of an accomplishment that is. I hope the teachers are helping you with your dyslexia. If they’re not, let me know, and I’d be happy to send them some resources. I’d love to check in with you when you come for the summer. Bring Harry along if you want.
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> Hannah Barber

Dudley smiled and pocketed the note. He would write back later. He had worried when it took so long for Hannah to reply, but he supposed it was because muggle post was slow. He wished Hannah could come up as well; she had never failed to be at a wrestling or boxing match, but it was heartening to know she was still supporting him from afar.

“Post from home?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, it’s from the muggle woman I was trying to contact earlier this year. I guess the letter finally made its way back.”

Hermione pursed her lips. He had noticed her taking an interest in his post lately, but he didn’t know why. Hermione was very observant, and a thought niggled in the back of his mind that she might have noticed his lack of personal post. And the one letter he had received wasn’t from his parents. But everyone else seemed to be none the wiser, even his dorm mates, so imagined that wasn’t it. For all he knew, she was hatching a plan to make muggle to wizard post more efficient.

Instead of commenting, as it looked like she wanted to, she changed the subject, “I’ve been thinking,” She huddled closer to Dudley and Neville, “You said Hagrid is obsessed with magical creatures, right?” Dudley nodded. “Well, do you think we could ask him about the Cerberus, or rather not specifically that one, but the breed in general?”

“You know, I’m surprised I haven’t thought of that before!” Dudley exclaimed.

“And he’s taken a liking to you and Harry, yeah?” Neville asked, “Maybe he’d be more willing to tell you if he knew something.”

“I think he invited Harry to tea today. I was planning on going with him, but you lot should come along too. We can go after potions,” Dudley signaled to his brother, and Harry gave him a nod back before turning again to his breakfast.

\----

Potions was mostly a non-event. Snape was as mean as ever, but Dudley, who had been receiving tutoring from Hermione and the Slytherins, was able to save his and Neville’s potion when Neville accidentally put too many lionfish spines into the brew. Such a feat would probably have earned him house points in another class, but Snape just turned up his abnormally large nose at them and let them be. The excitement came when Ron and Seamus’ potion bubbled over and started sparking. Draco Malfoy was snickering with his cronies in the corner; Dudley had the sinking suspicion that they had thrown something in the Gryffindor’s cauldron. Ron’s protesting lost them ten points, which was generous for Snape, and he earned himself detention.

The group of Slytherins and Gryffindors started following Dudley to the entrance to the Great Hall. “I think we should talk to Hagrid,” Dudley explained on the way. He then brought up the points Hermione had made, “Nev and ‘Mione are going to come with, and I think you should too Harry, but-”

“Forgetting someone?” Malfoy’s drawl sounded behind them, “If you’re trying to leave me out, you should try harder. You six are about as inconspicuous as a herd of erumpents,” A collective sigh went around the group. “And what could we possibly learn from that oaf? Even if he does have an unhealthy obsession with our golden boy here.”

“Have you ever actually met Hagrid, Malfoy?” Dudley bit out.

“No, but-”

“No, you haven’t. So you wouldn’t know that for all of his other questionable traits, he really knows his magical creatures. And I’m telling you that if anyone in this school could transport a real Cerberus into a school safely, it would be Hagrid. But he doesn’t hold with your pureblood nonsense,” Draco went pale at Dudley’s growled words, “So you’ll need to keep that under wraps if you’re coming along.”

“That seems to be in order,” Blaise cooly dissolved some tension. He received affirmative nods from the rest of the group.

“Oh, and Malfoy,” Dudley added, turning to face the boy dead on, “If we’re going to make this work, you’re going to need to tone down your attacks on Gryffindors. Believe me, I hate Weasley as much as you do, but I don’t take kindly to bullies,” Then he stomped off towards Hagrid’s.

\----

“Well, I weren’t expectin’ so many o’ you,” Hagrid said as he ushered the students into his hut. It was a tight squeeze, but they all managed to fit. “I don’ have enough chairs fer e’rybody bu’ I can surely make more tea,” He set to work, passing out the tea he had before going to make another kettle. “Never though’ I’d see a bunch o’ Gryffindors and Slytherins gettin’ along!”

“It’s a recent occurrence for us too,” Blaise replied lightly, sipping on his tea.

“Now le’ me see,” Hagrid muttered, returning to the table. He looked towards the Gryffindors. “I know Harry an’ Dudley o’ course. You must be Neville; I knew yer parents, good people they were. You’re Hermione, Dudley’s told me abou’ you.” Then he turned the Slytherins, and his smile faded a bit. “Yer a Nott, I can see the resemblance between you and yer brother.”

“Theo, sir,” The mousy haired boy supplied.

“You must be Madam Zabini’s boy; you’ve got her looks.”

“Blaise, and thank you,” The dark-skinned boy nodded.

“And you’d be Draco Malfoy, yeh look exac’ly like yer father, I’d know tha’ blond hair anywhere,” Draco's introduction lacked the good-natured humor the others had. There was no doubt Hagrid disliked Draco’s father and was wary of his son in kind.

Harry smoothed over the cold introduction by asking after Hagrid’s days since they had last been to visit. Hagrid mentioned a few trips into the forest and his encounters with centaurs, which piqued Dudley’s interest. Most of the time, they avoided humans. It was a testament to how well Hagrid knew creatures and the grounds that they would not shy away from approaching him. He shot a superior look at Malfoy, who seemed just as impressed as he was.

“So I’ve been doing some reading on class five-X creatures, and I wondered what the most dangerous creature you’ve handled is?” His hint at subtlety wasn’t the best, but Hagrid could also be quite oblivious.

“Oh, well, I’ve always wanted a Dragon. I suppose I woulda been a Dragon tamer in another life,” He looked wistfully into the distance. “Bu’ I’ve come across some 4-X creatures. For instance, three-headed-dogs are quite easy to tame if yeh know how to handle ‘em righ’.” The man puffed out his chest. “In fac’ the headmaster had me use Fluffy to guard-” He cut himself off, and his eyes went wide. “Shuldn’ta told yeh that.”

“Fluffy? That dog almost took my head off!” Neville squeaked at the same time, Dudley said, “Don’t worry, we already know about the dog.”

“How do you know about Fluffy? Wha’ have you lot been up ter?” The gigantic man demanded after getting to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, Dudley saw Harry flinch back bumping into Blaise, and Neville had a similar reaction. He reached to steady his friend.

“Neville and I got lost on the way to transfiguration,” Dudley placated. He explained their misadventure, “We just don’t understand why you’d keep a creature like that in a school. We know it’s guarding something, and we think someone is trying to steal it.”

“You lot are stickin’ yer noses in where they don’ belong. There’s more than just Fluffy guarding it. It’s between the headmaster and Flamel, none o’ yer-” He stopped himself again. “Oh, I shouldn’ta told you tha’,” He fretted. “You lot bes’ get out before I say somethin’ else I shouldn’.” He shooed them out of his hut. “It were nice ter see yeh, bu’ yeh best be goin’,” he said a hasty goodbye then slammed the door on them.

“Well, that was enlightening,” Blaise seemed stunned. None of them appeared to understand the quick exchange they’d just had.

Theo sighed, “At least we know there’s more standing between the mystery object and the thief than just a three-headed-dog that first years can get past,” It was still a harrowing thought that Fluffy was so easy to subdue.

“Anyone know who this Flamel is?” Hermione questioned. A few of the group looked at her incredulously. “I’m a bookworm, but I don’t know everything,” Hermione protested. When no one said anything, she decided, “Back to the library then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anything is wrong with the soccer facts in this chapter or later ones please let me know! They say write what you know but I don't think it would make sense for Dudley and Dean to start a baseball team. Also, I have a plot bunny in my head for a muggle high school soccer au where our favorite Slytherins and Gryffindors are on rival teams. It would probably be Drarry. Let me know if that's something you might read! It would probably be a one-shot.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Football is officially underway and Halloween is a bit more exciting than anyone expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's another one. It didn't really want to be written and it's not the most well-edited. I really just needed to churn something out. The next one is mostly written so hopefully, it'll be out sooner rather than later.
> 
>  **A note about the chapter:** This chapter talks about samhain and paganism and how some outsiders negatively view the religion and holidays. I am not trying to offend anyone. I included some issues I thought made sense in the world of Harry Potter based on worldwide witch trials. While I consider myself pagan, I don't speak for all of us. The traditions practiced in this chapter are loosely based on how I celebrate the holiday. I know talking about religion can make things hairy, so I wanted to preface the chapter with this before you delve into it. 
> 
> Now that that's out of the way I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Edited 8/2/2020: Nothing major just some clean-up.

They poured over different texts for the rest of the afternoon. Finally, they had to admit they weren’t going to find anything that day. They decided they would try to meet again when they were all free but would continue to search on their own. No one knew when they’d be able to meet again; with football about to start up, most of Dudley, Theo, and hopefully Neville’s weekends would be taken up with practice. 

Saturday arrived and with it the long-awaited tryouts. Dean and Dudley had asked all of the captains to report to the pitch early to help the Hufflepuffs set up. Charlie Porter, a sixth year, and Chloe Robinson, a fourth year, had taken on the task of forming the Hufflepuff team and thus named themselves co-captains. Kimberly Waters and Chris Fischer, both fifth years, showed up for Ravenclaw, and Theo had brought along Daphne.

“Okay, so Charlie was nice enough to conjure us some actual cones, and with Professor McGonagall, Kimberly, and Chris were able to transfigure some desks into goals,” Dean took charge. “We're going to have to work around the quidditch goal posts, which isn’t ideal, but we’ll make due. Everyone know the order?” At the captains’ nods, he continued. “Right, then let’s get set up. When we know who’s on each team, we can work out how to get proper jerseys and shoes. I’m not sure if we can transfigure regular trainers into cleats-”

“We could, but they wouldn’t hold up for long,” Kimberly offered.

“Right, then we’ll have to order those as well. It’ll take some organization, but if all the players chip in for the uniforms, I think we’ll be able to pull it off.”

Once the cones were set, Dean left his football with the Hufflepuff captains, who promptly duplicated it. “Alright, good luck to everyone! We’ll see you on the field. We can work out a time for the first game after Gryffindor plays Slytherin in quidditch.”

All the captains besides Charlie and Chloe left the field in the interest of fairness. Once they reached the locker rooms, they sent the assorted Hufflepuff hopefuls out onto the field.

After about an hour, the players came back sweaty and started to shower off.

“Your field,” Charlie said, passing the ball to Dean.

“Alright, Gryffindors! If you’d follow me and Dean?” Dudley called. He then knocked on the female dressing rooms and asked the female Gryffindors to come out. Dudley took on the role of running the drills so that Dean could stand to the side and observe. They started with the warm-ups he had practiced with Neville, shooting his friend an encouraging smile. About fifteen players showed up to try out, which meant they’d have to cut six. But knowing how Dean’s mind worked, they’d probably keep them all making the ones that didn’t quite make the cut second-string. That was, of course, if the second-string players all showed promise. Dudley had also advised Theo and Daphne to do the same. It never hurt to have back-up players, and he was surprised to find out that quidditch didn’t employ that strategy often.

After warm-ups, they did footwork drills. Everyone seemed to do an okay job. There were a couple that stood out from the crowd; people he was sure would make it on the team. Neville wasn’t the best on the field, but his practicing had paid off. He didn’t stumble once, and he was better than the average Gryffindor. He looked over to see Dean smiling in the direction of his roommate. They were both relieved they could put him on the team without bias.

They also decided to run some striker and defense drills to see if there was anyone they could immediately put in those positions. A fifth year, Amy McDaniels, showed promise as a striker, and the Shafiq siblings, Nida and Fareed, excelled at defending against her. She made a few goals, but they defended most, which was to be expected. Neville didn’t show an affinity for either, but he didn’t do poorly. In fact, he was able to turn one of his stumbles into a save, kicking the ball out of the way as he fell.

Altogether it took about an hour, and after they were all thoroughly exhausted, Dudley and Dean dismissed them. “We’ll be in touch about who made the team by the end of next week. Look for a posting on the notice board. The first practice will be the Sunday after. We’ll determine everybody’s positions then. Anything you want to add?” He asked, turning to Dudley.

“Just that we’re very happy everyone turned up today. You all did a great job, so thank you for making our decision harder. I know Gryffindor will have an amazing team this year. And know that if you’re not picked, we hope you’ll try out again next year.”

“Well, thanks again for coming out. Let’s give Ravenclaw the field,” Dean finished. They returned to the locker rooms, and Dean passed the ball off to Chris with a nod. 

By the time Dudley finished showering, Theo had returned.

“How’d it go?” Theo inquired.

“Pretty well. I think we’re going to have a solid team with a bit of training.”

Dudley took a look around the room full of Slytherins. There weren’t as many as had tried out for the Gryffindor team, but there were still quite a few boys. Hopefully, there were just as many girls sitting with Daphne. “Good turn out,” He said encouragingly.

Theo smiled, “I was worried not enough Slytherins would show up to make a whole team,” He admitted, “But it looks like we’ll have enough people, even if they all make it on the team.”

“It’s crazy. I didn’t think we’d have this much of an interest, but I guess when the only sport in the school only has room for seven players, people need another outlet.”

“You and Dean did a good job. And I think it’s going to be more inclusive than quidditch. I’m not feeling the intense rivalry all the teams have with each other. This good-natured, competitive spirit is refreshing.”

“Well, that is what it was supposed to be in the beginning. Just some friendly games.”

“True, but you also made an effort to extend the Snakes’ an invitation, not something any Lion would do.”

Some latecomers filtered in, Dudley’s brother among them. He was surprised to see Blaise. The Slytherin wasn’t dressed for tryouts and was most likely there for moral support, but most surprising was Draco Malfoy. At first, Dudley thought he was there to watch, but then he noticed what the boy was wearing. They seemed to be a borrowed pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt from Harry and some transfigured trainers. The door opened a second time, and Crabbe and Goyle lumbered in. Dudley was dumbstruck. Were they all here to try out?

“Theo persuaded Daphne and Pansy to bully all of us into trying-out. Millicent is as well,” Blaise offered at Dudley’s incredulous look, “They’ve promised retribution for my refusal, but I’d rather face whatever they have in store than making a complete fool of myself.”

Dudley looked at Theo, who smirked. “Even you, Malfoy?” He asked.

“How hard can it be?” Came the reply. He seemed confident, but Dudley thought he could see a slight falter in his facade. 

“Well, good luck then,” Dudley said sincerely.

Surprise flickered across the blonde-haired boy’s face for a moment before his trademark sneer graced his features again. Maybe Harry was right. Maybe there was more to Draco than the poncy, pompous prat persona he had perfected.

\----

Halloween was almost upon them when the football roster was posted. They had indeed decided to keep everyone but designated eleven first-string players. Dean had taken his old position of left midfielder, and Siobhan O’Leary was his right midfielder. They were both lightning quick on the field. Nida and Fareed were made right and left fullback, respectively. Nida was tiny but fierce in her defense. Even the larger players struggled to get past her. Fareed seemed to work as her second half; when they tag-teamed, their defense was incredible. To everyone’s surprise, and especially Neville himself, he showed promise as a keeper. He wasn’t the best with his feet, but when he was allowed to use his whole body, he went after the ball with vigor. He put all his effort into protecting the goal. The blonde-headed boy left all his shyness off the field. He never once flinched when the ball came at him, and he wasn’t afraid of sliding to kick it out of the way. Dudley took on the role of one of the center backs. A hulky seventh year, William Sheppard was the other center back, completing the team’s defensive line. Amy became their striker as they had expected, and her attacking midfielder was Patrick Haynes. Dudley had been surprised but happy to welcome Lee Jordan as their defensive midfielder. Sixth year Christina Fawley completed the team as their central midfielder.

They trained the other six players in various positions. Dudley decided to train as a backup keeper in case something happened to Neville. They had enough second-string players that could fill in for a center back if needed.

The Slytherins had also kept all the players that tried out, although only thirteen people had shown up. All the first years that tried out made first-string. Harry was taking on the position Dean played, Theo showed promise as a central midfielder, unsurprisingly Crabbe and Goyle were fullbacks, Millicent was the keeper, Daphne defensive midfielder, and to everyone's surprise, Draco excelled as a striker.

Halloween found Harry in a melancholy mood. After researching his history, he knew that the holiday marked the tenth anniversary of his parents’ murder. He seemed in no mood to enjoy the large feast the school threw every year. Dudley understood; this was the first year he would be able to mourn his parents properly. But he was determined not to let Harry go through it alone.

Hatching a plan, he pulled Blaise and Theo aside when he passed him in the hall. “Blessed Samhain,” The mousy-haired boy greeted.

“Er, happy Halloween?” Dudley returned, “What is sa-when?”

Blaise snorted, “Sorry, sometimes we forget you’re muggle-born. Most pure-bloods don’t practice the muggle holiday of Halloween; they honor Samhain, the pagan new year. So when someone greets you with ‘blessed Samhain’ the proper response is: ‘May Lady Magic bless you in the new year.’”

“Oh, um, then may Lady Magic bless you in the new year.”

“And you,” The other boys replied by rote.

“We’ll be holding a small gathering with the first years to celebrate. You, Neville, and Hermione are welcome to join us. I’m not sure if the Longbottoms practice the Olde Ways, but he’ll know about them nonetheless.”

“Er, about that. You know that today is the tenth anniversary of my aunt and uncle’s deaths?” The bods nodded solemnly. “Well, Harry and I have never really had a chance to mourn them properly, and I doubt he’ll want to celebrate anything today.”

“We understand,” Blaise was the most solemn Dudley had ever seen him, “But Samhain is not only the new year; it’s also a time for honoring our dead. Each of us attending has someone we remember on this day. I would invite you both to come and remember with us so you’ll not be alone. We’ll talk to Harry.”

Theo added, “We’re planning on grabbing food from the great hall and setting up an altar in an empty classroom. It would be better if we could have the house-elves prepare Samhain specific foods and not just the sweets the school seems to enjoy, but Hogwarts doesn’t allow children to summon their family house-elves and we don’t know where the kitchens are,” He sighed.

“I think I can fix that,” Dudley mused, “I may have an idea. I’ll let you know after lunch if it pans out,” And with that, the boys went to their respective classes.

At lunch, Dudley approached the Weasley twins. Despite all the animosity between Dudley and their younger brother, they had never been anything but kind to him. And if anyone knew where the kitchens were, it would be them.

“Er, Fred, George, could I talk to you for a second?”

Twin smiles greeted him as they turned around, “The man of the hour!” One started.

“The team captain!” The other one seconded.

“We hear quidditch might be fighting in popularity with your football,” They smirked at him.

“What can we humble troublemakers do for you?” The first one said.

“I was wondering if you knew where the kitchens were?” Dudley enquired.

Their smiles grew wider, “Planning on throwing a party?” The first one suggested.

“Being out after curfew?” The other one hinted.

“Causing trouble and making mayhem?” 

“Why we’d be happy to take you to the kitchens,” They answered together.

“Er, thanks, guys,” Dudley was still unsure of what to make of the twins. He really needed to learn which was which. They made him dizzy with their going back and forth. “Do you think you could show me after classes end today?”

“Why, of course!” One proclaimed.

“We’re happy to serve!” The second declared.

“Okay. Then I guess we can just meet back in the entrance hall?”

“Perfect,” They said in unison.

Dudley went to sit back down next to Hermione and Neville. He gave a nod to Theo, who smiled back at him. “So, we’ve been invited to a gathering with the Slytherins tonight,” Dudley informed his friends. Hermione’s eyebrows went up in interest. Dudley explained Theo’s offer and the importance of it for Harry.

“Of course, we’d be happy to help you remember them,” Hermione reached across the table to pat his arm. 

“Yeah, mate, we’ll support you and Harry in whatever you need,” Neville agreed.

“Nev, you know more about Samhain than I do. What sort of foods should I get for us?” Dudley inquired.

Neville paused to think, “Well, my family celebrates the old holidays, but we’ve never made a big deal of it. Mostly we choose foods that would’ve been harvested during the fall. We have a garden at home, and we grow seasonal vegetables, and we usually use those to make our meal. Colcannon usually uses a lot of the vegetables we harvest. Squash is always a good choice. Apples and hazelnuts are also traditional. In the old days, it was also a time for deciding which of the livestock would need to be slaughtered for the winter, since it would keep better. It’s off-putting to some people, and my family doesn’t practice that, but it made sense in earlier times.”

Hermione looked puzzled. “Why haven’t I heard of this before? Wouldn’t we cover this in history of magic?”

“Actually, since the rise of You-Know-Who, the Olde Ways have been associated with Dark Families. Many non-pureblood families see the practices as barbaric and have pushed for them not to be taught in our curriculum.”

“Muggle-borns, you mean,” Hermione inferred.

Neville sighed, “Yes, a lot of muggle-borns often come into the wizarding world with a lot of misconceptions regarding the Olde Ways, or Pagan traditions. Muggle propaganda often portrays the holidays as satanic rituals. It doesn’t help that ‘witchcraft’ is often taught to be evil, which is sad because that causes internalized self-hatred for a lot of wixen that are muggle-raised. So, it was pushed out of the curriculum and considered too dark to teach, even though many light-aligned pure-blood families practice some form of the holidays. It also doesn’t help that one of the things You-Know-Who promised to bring back was the Olde Ways. It was a reason a lot of dark leaning families chose to follow him. And some of why pure-bloods hold such animosity towards muggle-borns. They feel as though the muggle-borns are the reason their traditions are dying. Of course, there’s still all the blood purity stuff, too.”

Both Dudley and Hermione were stunned at Neville’s thorough analysis. Neville blushed at their stunned looks. “It’s all just knowledge that is passed down through pure-blood families. I’m sure even Ron could’ve told you all that. His parents would’ve explained it to him too.”

“Well, definitely not as eloquently as you just did,” Hermione defended.

Neville chuckled, “No, I suppose not.”

“You know, Nev? You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for,” Dudley praised. Neville blushed even harder at the compliment.

\----

The twins, true to their word, led Dudley to the kitchens. Dudley was surprised by the house-elves that worked the kitchens. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. He left his order with the strange creatures and asked them to have it ready by the feast. He was almost uncomfortable with their eagerness to please.

At dinner, Dudley gathered Hermione and Neville and made his way over to the Slytherin table to tell them the house-elves would have their food ready. Most of the Slytherin first years followed Dudley to the kitchens to help them carry the food.

“There’s an abandoned potions classroom in the dungeons that we’ve set up in,” Theo directed. Dudley carried the jug of apple cider he’d ordered and fell back to talk with his brother. “How are you holding up?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” He admitted, “I’m glad we’re doing this. As much as I need to mourn, I’m glad I’m not alone,” He fell silent for a few moments lost in thought. “It’s just that, for our entire lives, we were told they were good for nothing drunks- that my dad killed my mom. I’ve spent a lot of time hating them for leaving me and now to know that was all lies... I feel guilty, I guess. They died protecting me, and I’ve been thinking horrible things about them for years. Sometimes I still resent them even though I know the truth. I’m still alone,” Harry was crying silently as he said this. He turned his green eyes away from Dudley and tried to wipe his eyes discreetly. Dudley’s heart clenched in sympathy. He felt guilty for thinking the same things. When they had been introduced to the wizarding world, Dudley couldn’t help but wonder how different it would’ve been if his aunt and uncle had been alive, if they would’ve had to suffer Vernon’s wrath. “I don’t even have a picture of them to put on the altar,” Harry grieved.

“Well, I can help you there,” Dudley assured and pulled a photo out of his pocket. He held it out to his brother. It showed a lovely woman with red hair and Harry’s bright green eyes. Next to her stood a man with glasses and Harry’s messy black hair. He had an arm wrapped around her shoulders. She was holding a small bundle wrapped in a fluffy white blanket. Harry couldn’t have been more than a few months old. Every few seconds, they would smile broadly and turn to look at the small baby waving his hand at them. The love in their eyes was apparent. Harry ran his fingers over it reverently.

“I really do look like him,” He whispered. He traced the features of their faces greedily as if he was trying to memorize them. He finally looked up from his parents to smile at Dudley. “Thank you,” he said softly. His eyes went back to the photo, and he noticed something he hadn’t before. “Wait, Lee, is this from a library book?”

Dudley rubbed his neck, bashfully, “I didn’t know where else to get a proper picture.”

“If Pince ever finds out you're a dead man,” Harry chuckled, “But, thank you.”

“Always,” Dudley replied.

When they reached the classroom, Theo and the others set the food down on a long table. Then everyone moved to set the photos of their loved ones on the altar. Candles were arranged in front of the photo stand. Each person lit one with a small blessing for life, death, harvest, and magic then went to sit at the long table. Most of the Slytherins chose to honor their ancestors. Millicent put up a picture of her oldest brother, who had died in the first wizarding war. Neville, like Harry, also offered an image of his parents. Even Hermione contributed a picture of her grandfather. Blaise kissed the photo of his father and said something in Italian before sitting down with the rest. The last to approach, Theo set down a bowl of food and a picture of a young girl who looked exactly like him. Standing beside her in the frame was a boy who could only be a younger Theo. They seemed to be about the same age in the photo. When he joined him at the table, the students clasped hands. They said a prayer of thanks to Lady Magic for keeping them safe through the year and asked for another safe turning of the wheel. They acknowledged those they had lost and asked that they be accepted into the afterlife. They paid their respects to death and recognized it as a part of the natural order.

After their solemn blessing, the melancholy mood dissipated into jovial talking and remembrance. People shared family stories. Theo opened up about his twin sister, who had died of dragon pox at the tender age of five. Hermione shared that her love of books had come from her grandfather, who never failed to read to her at night.

“What about you, Harry?” Dudley and Harry looked at each other. As much as they wanted to remember the Potters, they didn’t have any funny family stories to share. And of course, Harry had been too young to have any memories of them.

Dudley spoke up, “We don’t really have any stories of Aunt Lily and Uncle James. Only what everyone knows about their sacrifice, and that they were Gryffindors when they went to school here,” At the surprised looks around the table Dudley tried to clarify without giving too much away, “We grew up pretty secluded from anyone who knew them. We spent all our time in the muggle world, and my mother, Lily’s sister, didn’t really like to talk about them.”

Hermione looked troubled, “But she didn’t share anything about them?”

“Er, well, the truth is my mum and Aunt Lily didn’t have the best relationship. And they didn’t make up before she died. I think it’s, er- painful-” He glanced at Harry, who winced a bit, “For her to talk about,” _It was certainly painful for_ us _to talk about_. Dudley thought darkly.

Everyone seemed to sense Harry and Dudley’s discomfort at the topic, and thankfully the group started to talk about the upcoming Slytherin/Gryffindor match. After a while, the girls excused themselves to go to the restroom. The boys were lost in the talk of quidditch and didn’t realize the girls had been gone a long time. When they finally noticed, it had been a good thirty minutes. Worried, they got up and decided to check on them.

When they got out into the hall, they heard hurried footsteps from above them. “The feast must be over,” Someone commented. No sooner had they mentioned it that they heard sudden shrieks coming from the girls’ bathroom. Frantic shouts chorused behind them from the direction of the great hall. The boys rushed towards the restrooms, fearing what they might find. Throwing the door open, they saw Pansy, Hermione, Daphne, and Millicent cowering in the last stall, their wands drawn and aimed at a mountain troll. The troll seemed to be knocking every stall down on the way to them. The boys stood stock still.

“Neville, go get a professor,” Dudley ordered. The blonde boy scampered off in the direction of the great hall.

“I’ll go too,” Blaise offered, “Just in case.”

Dudley tried to assess the situation. The scariest thing about the troll was the club it was swinging. If they could somehow knock the club from the troll’s hand, they could buy the girls some time to get out of the bathroom. 

“Anybody got any ideas?” Dudley asked. 

“Spungify?” Theo suggested.

“The softening charm?” Harry clarified.

“I suppose if we aim for the club...” Draco’s voice shook.

“Can anybody even do that one? We haven’t even learned it yet!” Dudley cried.

Harry took a deep breath, “I’ve read ahead. I could probably do it.”

“I’ll try too,” Draco agreed.

“And me,” Theo raised his wand.

“Okay, we need a good shot, so I’m going to distract it and get it to turn towards us,” Dudley steeled himself, “Girls, when I shout, try to make a run for it if you can.”

The girls nodded shakily. Dudley took his chance, “Hey! You! Yeah, you, you great ugly brute! Get away from my friends!” The troll had registered his shouting and was slowly turning to lumber towards Dudley. But from their angle, the boys still couldn’t get a good shot. “That’s right, you heard me! I called you ugly!” The troll assessed the threat and raised his club. “NOW!” Dudley bellowed, and three voices chorused. “Spungify!” Three beams of light hit the club, and Dudley jumped back when the troll brought the club down. It barely hit him, but the spell had worked. The club bounced off of him like rubber. The troll continued to try to smash anything within reach, but it was ineffective. His club was no good. With the troll completely distracted, the girls made a beeline for the exit. Dudley had just slammed the door to the bathroom and locked it when Neville and Blaise appeared with Professors McGonagall and Snape. 

“What is the meaning of this?” McGonagall demanded. Everyone started talking at once. “One at a time!” The wisened professor shouted. “Mr. Dursley, why were you not at the feast?”

“I promise I’ll explain Professor, but the Troll is still in the girls’ lavatory.” 

“Oh, very well then. Severus?” Both Professors approached the door, opened it quickly, brandishing their wands. A red light burst from the ends of each and struck the troll. There was a loud crash as the beast hit the floor, stunned. 

With the troll subdued, McGonagall prompted Dudley to tell the whole story. So he explained about their quiet “gathering.” He didn’t want to mention anything regarding Samhain in case the professors would hold it against them. He explained about following the girls and finding the troll and the havoc that ensued.

“Be that as it may, you should’ve notified a professor to tell them where you were,” McGonagall chastised. “It was incredibly irresponsible and dangerous. Five points from each of you for that. Although I think Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Zabini deserve five points for having the sense to get a teacher. A further ten points to Slytherin and Gryffindor for teamwork and sheer dumb luck. Anything you need to add, Severus?”

“Not at this time,” He drawled, “I will be taking the Slytherins back to their common room, and we will have a- discussion- about the events of the night,” He looked pointedly at his snakes, and each of them was significantly cowed. He stalked off in the other direction, and they dutifully followed. 

“I trust you three can find the common room by yourself, or will I have to guide you?” McGonagall’s glare rivaled Snape’s. “I have to alert the headmaster of what happened.”

“No, professor, we can find it,” Neville replied.

“Good. See that you do.”

The three walked in silence for a while, but Neville seemed troubled.

“What’s up, Nev? Is something wrong?” Dudley pried.

“It’s Snape. When I was going to get a teacher, I accidentally went on the wrong stairs, and they took me to the third-floor corridor again. I tried to turn around, but I saw Snape. He was coming out of the room with Fluffy, and he had a dog bite on his leg,” Hermione gasped. “I think Snape’s the thief,” Neville admitted.

“But he can’t be!” Hermione protested, “He’s a teacher!”

“No, it makes sense. Who else would have access to the school? Only a professor. And Neville, you heard what Theo said about Snape: he fell in with bad people in school,” Neville nodded. “I’ll bet he tried to use the troll as a distraction or something. They’re too stupid to find a way in by themselves.”

Hermione still didn’t look convinced, “Why would he want whatever it is then?”

“Well, we don’t know, do we? We have to figure out what it is first,” Dudley insisted.

“Well, we’re going to need more proof in any case. We can just accuse a tenured professor outright,” Hermione argued.

“Then we’ll get it,” Dudley promised.

When they got back to the dorms, they all said a quick goodnight and immediately prepared for sleep. Even with all of the day’s excitement, it was easy for the Gryffindors to nod off.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First football match of the season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my past self for writing 3/4 of this. I'm sorry it took so long. My job has been really wearing on me lately and I haven't had much motivation to do anything. It's much shorter than my normal chapters but Christmas hols are on their way and that will be a longer chapter. Love to all and I hope everyone is staying safe in quarantine or at work if you're essential.  
> As always enjoy!  
> Edited 8/2/2020: No major changes, just clean-up.

The first year boys woke up on the Saturday of the first quidditch match excited. Breakfast was abuzz with noise over the game. Most people had donned red and gold to support the Gryffindors. Ron was loud about how excited he was to see the Gryffindor team crush the slimy Slytherin snakes. To Dudley’s surprise, Malfoy didn’t rise to any of Weasley’s bait. Instead, he chose to engage Harry and Blaise in conversation, making no indication that he had heard Ron’s taunts. Dudley was surprised and pleased. Malfoy seemed to have listened to Harry and Dudley and was genuinely trying to change his behavior. He was still a git sometimes, but people don’t change overnight. 

The group met in the entrance hall to walk down to the pitch together. They decided to sit halfway between the Slytherin and Gryffindor stands so that no one would receive the other house’s wrath for supporting the opposite team. 

“The first football game is set for next Saturday,” Dudley announced. Everyone’s faces lit up. “It’s Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. We’ve decided to follow the same match schedule as quidditch. So the next game will be Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw. If we sandwich the football games in between the quidditch matches, we’ll be able to do three this term and three next term and then hold the championship games. We’ve all talked it over with Madam Hooch, and she agrees.”

“You Lions ready to take on the big bad Snakes?” Blaise teased. 

“I think we’re getting there. I’m not sure me and Dean realized how hard it is to captain a team. I’m glad there are two of us,” Dudley replied.

Theo nodded, “I feel the same way. I’d be lost without Daphne.”

“Oh, now it’s so complicated!” Hermione cried.

Everyone was puzzled. “What do you mean?” Theo asked.

“Well, now that we’re all friends, I don’t know who to root for!” She worried.

Everyone chuckled. “How about I wear the Slytherin green and you the Gryffindor red and gold?” Blaise suggested, “That way, one of us is supporting both teams.”

She looked at him, gratefully, “Oh, that makes sense.” He smiled and patted her hand.

The game started up, and Lee Jordan announced the lineup of players on both teams. His commentary was hilarious, if extremely biased, and Dudley was sad that he wouldn’t be offering narration for the football matches. Well, he would be, if not for the boy’s talent on the field.

Everyone was caught up in the game, and for all of Ron’s bluster, no one was surprised when Slytherin won by a landslide. They were the defending champions, and Gryffindor hadn’t been able to replace Charlie Weasley. Dudley hoped the Gryffindor football team fared better than their quidditch counterpart in the upcoming match.

\-----

“Good game guys,” Neville greeted the twins as they passed them on the way inside.

They laughed. “Oh, that was bollocks, but thank you,” One replied.

“From what we hear, you’re going to do much better in your game against Slytherin,” The other smirked, “Keeper we hear.”

Neville nodded and blushed. “You’re coming?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss a chance to see the Slytherins get their arses handed to them,” The first one declared. 

“No offense intended. Purely team spirit,” The second one addressed the Slytherins in their rag-tag group. “We’ve been brushing up on the rules so we can follow along.”

“Did I hear that, right?” Ron asked, coming up behind them. “You’ve got to be joking! Longbottom, on a sports team? That’s a real laugh,” Ron guffawed, clutching his side. He was doubled over at his own joke, Neville growing steadily redder. By this time, everyone around them had stopped to listen in. When Ron came up, he found he was the only one laughing. Dudley and Hermione were standing protectively behind the self-conscious boy, and the Slytherin’s silence kept other jeers at bay. Even Seamus, Ron’s only friend, looked a bit concerned by the situation. The air was silent, every non-Gryffindor waiting with bated breath. “Oh, come on! You saw how well he did on a broom!” Ron pandered to Seamus and the rest of the Gryffindor girls. “You can’t honestly say anyone would pick  _ him. _ ”

“You wouldn’t know the first thing about muggle sports, Weasley,” Dudley kept his voice low, but it came out as a slight growl. He looked at his brother, asking for advice. It spoke volumes that instead of shaking his head at Dudley not to get involved, his brother’s eyes burned with rage. “And as a matter of fact, he was picked for the team, and we’re proud to have him.”

“I know a pudge like him isn’t good for anything physical,” Ron spat back.

“He’s not a pudge!” Dudley bellowed, and he was sure everyone in Scotland could’ve heard his outburst. “He’s another boy who sleeps in your dorms! He’s a Lion! And he’s a damn better one than you! Never once has Neville said a bad thing about anyone, and here you are too cowardly to do anything more than mock others. You must have some real problems to be this mean, Weasley. I hope you get over them soon because until you do, I don’t think there’s anyone in Gryffindor who’ll want anything to do with you.” Dudley turned and stomped out of the entrance hall, Hermione and Neville bringing up his rear, leaving a stunned Ronald Weasley in their wake. The twins shook their heads at their youngest brother and followed the first years out.

“Well, I suppose we know who the new Lion prince is,” Dudley heard Blaise mutter, his smirk evident in his tone.

“True, it looks like your cousin is the one to watch, Harry,” Theo agreed. Harry was staring at Dudley as they confidently made their way through throngs of people.

“Good job, big brother,” Harry whispered in his ear as he passed. Dudley broke into a genuine smile. But the best thing that came from the encounter was Draco Malfoy offering his arm to Neville in a wizard’s greeting and saying, “I look forward to seeing you on the field.”

\-----

Madam Hooch, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore helped Dudley, Dean, Theo, and Daphne set up the spectator seats for the football game early in the morning the next Saturday. They spanned two sides of the field. The captains had all decided that the usual quidditch stands were too high up in the air for their spectators to see anything. They set the goals up and spelled white lines on the field to mark the midfield line, center circle, penalty and goal areas, and the edge of the field.

Once they were done, they retreated into their respective locker rooms. Dean’s mom had facilitated the ordering of jerseys, and each team had their own representing their house colors. On the back, each player’s name was proudly displayed with their team number. Theo, Dean, Dudley were already dressed when their players came in. The Gryffindors left the Slytherins with muttered, “Good lucks,” and went to congregate with their female team members.

“Alright, everybody,” Dean started when the girls had joined them, “This is a big one. First match of the season. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw will be watching to see how well we play, so let’s go out there and give them our best!”

Dudley continued, “Everyone's really given their best in the last few weeks, and I’m proud to know we’re representing Gryffindor. Let’s have a good game and show those Slytherins what we're made of!”

Dean and Theo went to Madam Hooch to flip the coin and see which team would take the kick-off. Slytherin won, and each team retreated to their side of the field. Theo lined up to take the shot, passing the ball to Harry, and the game was in play.

“And we’re off!” Called an exuberant voice over the stadium. 

“That was Theo Nott, captain of the Slytherin team, taking the first kick,” Another voice informed the crowd.

“Nott’s a first year, and by our accounts,”

“Didn’t know a thing about football until a few months ago,”

“But then neither did we, Forge.”

“That’s right Gred, but once were realized our dear mate, Lee Jordan,”

“Go lions!” Forge input.

“Wouldn’t be able to offer commentary,” Continued Gred, “We knew we had to take up the mantle.”

Dudley couldn’t believe his ears. The twins were the new football announcers? Someone must have railroaded McGonagall into allowing that. 

“And there’s Potter’s first pass to Gemma Farley, who takes it up the field.”

“Farley’s a fifth year, but she’s one of the few. Most of Slytherin’s roster consists of first years. Seven out of their eleven players started Hogwarts this year.”

“Failed pass by Farley to Daphne Greengrass.”

“Dean Thomas in possession now, that’s some impressive dribbling past Greengrass, he’s running it up the field. He’s past Potter now approaching the goal. He moves to pass to Siobhan O’Leary. She’s got it now an open shot. Oh! Nice save by Millicent Bulstrode, Slytherin’s keeper.”

“Ball’s back in play. Potter’s got it again. He passes it to Nott, who takes it up the field. Pass to Farley and then back to Nott. Nida Shafiq moves to intercept, but Draco Malfoy receives it. Looks like a free shot, just Malfoy and Neville Longbottom. Malfoy lines up the shot, and oh! Longbottom saves it!”

“What a kick!”

“I’ve never seen a slide like that, folks!”

The first fifteen minutes of the first half were pretty exciting, with two shots on each goal. The twins offered surprisingly neutral but entertaining commentary. Dudley saw a bit of action defending and got the wind knocked out of him by one of the Slytherin’s midfielders. Nida got checked by Slytherin’s particularly rough attacking midfielder, but she gave as good as she got. She and her brother remained a well-oiled machine.

By the end of the first half, the score was still zero, zero. At half-time, Dean called the group together for a team meeting. “Everyone’s doing a fabulous job. Neville, that was an amazing save early in the game. If you can keep that up, Slytherin will never have a chance. Amy, their defense is better than what we expected, so try to pass the ball until you have a clear shot. Patrick, the same goes for you. If we can do that, we’re sure to win. Get some water and rest up so we can play a good second half.”

It happened in the last ten minutes of the game. Gryffindor was up two to one. Draco had managed to score against Neville, and Gryffindor had been awarded a penalty shot, taken by Amy. 

“Is that?” Came Gred’s voice over the field. 

“It looks like someone has bewitched Potter,” Forge answered.

“Oh bloody hell, I think someone’s messed with his cleats,” McGonagall was too focused on what was going on to reprimand the twins for their language. 

Dudley lost focus on the game and turned to look at whatever the twins were talking about. In the middle of the field, dangling upside down ten feet in the air, was his brother. He was slowly rising higher into the sky, led by his shoes. He was struggling to get them off but wasn’t having much luck. They were jerking him about throwing him off whenever he managed to get a grip on the laces. Dudley hurried to the center of the field. He was at a loss; never had he not known what to do when his brother was in danger, but he didn’t know enough magic to do anything to help. The gameplay had halted entirely. Theo was shouting at Madam Hooch and gesturing wildly, obviously urging her to do something.

Suddenly the jerking stopped, and Harry, who was now at least forty feet in the air, began to drop rapidly. McGonagall hastily transfigured a goal into a net and levitated it underneath Harry. He hit the ground right as the net sprang up beneath him. It had lessened his fall, but the boy was unconscious.

After a few moments, people seemed to come back to themselves, and Theo called a real timeout for the captains to talk. Theo, Daphne, Dudley, and Dean all approached Madam Hooch.

“There’s only ten minutes of playtime left. Do we want to finish the game or call it?” Theo questioned.

“Do you have a replacement player?” Dean asked.

“We do, but I’m not sure how well anyone is going to play after that incident,” Theo returned. Dudley nodded; he could see the other boy’s point. 

“It’s only ten minutes. People get injured in sports all the time. Sure, what happened to Potter was strange, but there’s nothing we can do about it now,” Dean argued.

“He’s right, Theo,” Daphne piped up, “Leave figuring out what happened to Harry to the professors. We might as well give winning this game one more shot.”

“And you?” Theo addressed Dudley.

Dudley thought about it a moment, “I guess Daphne’s right. We can continue.” He wasn’t keen on the idea; he wanted to see his brother, but Daphne had a point. He didn’t know any healing magic and would just be in Madam Pomfrey’s way. “Let’s do another kick-off. Slytherin can take it since you lost a player.”

The last ten minutes were tense. Slytherin didn’t manage to score again; most of their players seemed to be shaken by what happened to Harry. Immediately after coming off the field, the first years rushed to the hospital wing to check on their friend. Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem happy about being bombarded by ten first years and the Weasley twins. 

“He’s still unconscious,” She proclaimed before they could ask, “I suggest you all come back later. There are far too many of you for my infirmary.”

“Will he be okay?” Dudley asked.

“Yes, Mr. Dursely, he’ll recover just fine. He just has a bit of a concussion. I’ve already gotten him to swallow some potions. He’ll be back up and in his dorm tomorrow. Now all of you, shoo.” 

Most people made to leave, but Dudley didn’t budge. Hermione and Neville stayed behind with him. Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow and gave him an inquiring look. “I’m sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but he’s my cousin, my brother, really. I’d like to stay.”

The matron humphed but gave in, “Alright, but if I hear you causing a ruckus you will be thrown out immediately,” She walked away muttering about dangerous sports.

He was about to sit vigil by Harry’s bedside when Hermione tapped him on the shoulder. “Dudley, before we go, Neville and I need to talk to you,” Hermione whispered. Dudley turned back around, and she ushered them into an empty corner of the infirmary. “It was Snape,” She began, “Snape was cursing Harry’s shoes.”

“What?” Dudley exclaimed. She shushed him, and he lowered his voice again, “How do you know?”

“He was muttering some sort of spell and maintaining eye contact. All signs of bewitching.”

“Do you think it’s just the grudge?” Dudley looked back and forth between his friends.

Hermione gave a vague “hmm” sound before answering, “I’m not sure. He may know about Harry’s involvement with the investigation into whatever Fluffy’s guarding.”

“But then why wouldn’t he go after me too? I’m the one who started this mess, and I’m a Gryffindor. Two perfect reasons to hate me.”

“Maybe, but Harry’s a Slytherin. Snape would be more privy to the goings-on in his own house. All I know is that it was Snape bewitching Harry’s shoes.”

“I don’t like it,” Dudley looked grim.

“This isn’t a game anymore,” Neville said with quiet determination, “We need to figure out what’s in that room and who’s trying to steal it. For all our sakes.”

“Let the others know?” Dudley asked before walking back to his brother’s side. They nodded and rushed off to inform their Slytherin friends. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas at Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm not completely settled into my new apartment, and changes are happening all the time, but I did have time enough to finish chapter eleven. And wow, it's the longest I've written yet! I hope the length makes it worth the wait.
> 
> On a side note, I'm going back through earlier chapters and cleaning up grammar and such. I might end up changing a few things, but if it's anything more than small stuff I'll let you guys know. Thanks for sticking with me guys!
> 
> Edited 8/2/2020: Nothing major just some clean-up.

November faded into December, and Christmas break came quickly on the heels of midterm exams. Ravenclaw played Hufflepuff in both football and quidditch with Hufflepuff winning both matches. Dudley and Harry both signed up to stay for Christmas break, thankful that they had the option. Dudley didn’t know how Harry had done it, but he had secured special permission from Snape to go to Gringotts. While the original plan had been to receive assistance from Neville’s grandmother, now that both boys were on amicable terms with Draco, they decided to accept his help. Harry’s friendship with Draco most likely helped persuade Snape; the blonde seemed to be Snape’s favorite student. The new plan was to floo to the Malfoy’s and from there floo to Gringotts. Professor McGonagall granted Dudley permission to go along. He was apprehensive about how the rest of the Malfoy family would receive him. He still remembered Draco’s words at the robe shop. Knowing his brother, though, Harry would respectfully tell the Malfoys to piss off if they said something blatantly rude. But he doubted it would come to that. If there was one thing he had learned from hanging out with the Slytherins, it was that most of their insults were subtle.

The Slytherins hadn’t taken Hermione’s accusations against Snape very well. All of them vehemently denied his involvement, convinced there was another explanation. Even Harry was wary of that conclusion, “I know he hates me, but I don’t think he’d go far enough to kill me,” his brother had commented. They had all grudgingly agreed to keep an eye on the dour professor anyway.

The trip to Diagon Alley was planned for two weeks before Christmas, so it doubled as a shopping trip. Hermione and Blaise were the only ones who wouldn’t be there. Hermione was staying with her parents in Leeds, and, with no convenient method of traveling 270 kilometers easily, the Grangers were reluctant to drive the four hours it would take to get back to London. Blaise was going back to the Zabini villa in Italy, so he couldn’t exactly floo back either. Neville had promised to get his Grandmother’s approval to come shopping that day as well.

Unfortunately for Dudley, the only other Gryffindor first year who was staying at Hogwarts was Ron. All the Weasleys were being left at school because their parents were going to see their older brother, Dudley couldn’t remember where. It did mean that he got to know the twins better. By the end of the first week, he finally figured out how to tell who was who. Harry, Dudley, Fred, and George had fun organizing inter-house snowball fights. They greatly annoyed Percy, who spent most of the break trying to study for his O.W.L.s.

When it was time for the boys to go to Malfoy Manor, they gathered in Professor Snape’s office in their finest casual robes. Dudley was worried about flooing for the first time, but his brother was a reassuring presence at his side. His brother had told him what to do, but he was still nervous he would mess it up.

“Just watch me and do as I do,” Harry murmured when Snape held a pot of green floo powder to them. The man glared intently at them but didn’t say anything.

Taking a pinch of the powder, Harry threw it into the flames, stepped inside, and declared “Malfoy Manor,” loudly and clearly. In a flash of green, he swirled and was gone.

Dudley took a pinch of floo powder and hesitated before throwing it into the fire.

“Well, go on,” Snape snapped. It was all the encouragement Dudley needed. He didn’t want to be in Snape’s presence a moment longer than he had to. He copied Harry and vanished into the floo network. He closed his eyes against the dizzying whirl of green scared of puking on the Malfoy’s carpet when he arrived.  _ Wouldn’t that be a wonderful introduction?  _ He thought.

Finally, the spinning came to a halt, and he stumbled upon landing. Harry was waiting for him and caught him before he could embarrass himself by falling flat on his face. Straightening up, he looked around. He had landed in a foyer. Cream walls decorated with family portraits greeted him. A double staircase made of marble curved toward the top floor, the railing trimmed in black. Two black double doors stood at the side of each staircase leading to the east and west wings of the manor. Lady Malfoy and Draco stood ready to greet them, but Lord Malfoy was nowhere in sight.

Dudley discretely brushed the soot off of his robes as Draco began introductions. “Harry, Dudley, this is my mother, Lady Narcissa Malfoy.”

“Well, met Lady Malfoy,” Harry gave a slight bow then reached out his arm in a wizard’s greeting. 

“Well met, Heir Potter,” she returned. 

Harry had briefed Dudley about the proper way to do this. Harry would give a slight bow because she held a station above him. Dudley would be expected to bow deeper since he didn’t come from a noble house or hold any family titles. In olden days, he wouldn’t have been permitted to offer his arm in greeting because commoners were not allowed to touch the upper class. Time had taught them differently; however, many assassinations and attempts had been carried out because no one thought to check their arms.

“Well met, My Lady,” Dudley echoed. That was different too. Harry was permitted to use her name, but etiquette dictated that unless two or more ladies were present, Dudley would be rude to address her by any name other than a generic honorific.

“Well met, Mr. Dursley,” she replied, clasping his outstretched arm. “But please do call me Narcissa, I am never Lady Malfoy to Draco’s friends,” she beamed at them.

“Then please call us by our given names as well, Narcissa,” Harry returned.

Narcissa Malfoy was nothing like what Dudley expected. He had imagined her as a stuffy pureblood who would snub him for his ancestry. Instead, she had a calm but commanding presence about her. He was pleasantly surprised at her warm welcome, which seemed completely genuine. He was starting to learn not to judge Slytherins from the off. She wasn’t the first Malfoy to have surprised him.

“I apologize for Father’s absence. He was called away for a meeting,” Draco explained,

“Don’t worry, though, I am happy to assist you at Gringotts. I manage the Black family accounts,” Narcissa informed them.

“We appreciate the help, thank you,” Harry answered politely.

“Well, let’s away. We will be flooing straight to Gringotts. I took the liberty of making you an appointment, Harry. They will be expecting us,” Narcissa took her pot of floo powder off the fireplace mantle and handed it to her son, “You first, Draco.” The blonde boy strutted into the fire and called out, “Gringotts Bank!” The other boys followed suit with Narcissa bringing up the rear. Dudley tried hard not to stumble again but didn’t quite manage it. This time, he was able to catch himself, however.

Once Lady Malfoy gracefully stepped out of the flames, she made her way across the opulent hall toward a wizened goblin, inspecting what appeared to be a large ruby. He looked up as they approached, “Ah, Lady Malfoy, may your family ever prosper,” He greeted.

“And gold fall at your feet, Master Glornuk,” she answered.

“I see you have brought young Heir Potter. This way,” he jumped down from his stool and ushered them into a meeting room behind the counters, “You are here on business for Heir Potter?” The goblin asked after they had all settled down. The creature took a seat behind a large desk, with each of the humans seating themselves in large, straight-backed chairs. They were rather uncomfortable, and Dudley wondered if that was on purpose.

“Yes,” Narcissa brought Dudley out of his musing, “He is here to take charge of his accounts. He will need bank statements, a coin pouch, and his heir ring at the very least.”

“I also wish to inquire about taking someone under the protection of my house, Master Glornuk,” Harry added.

“Very well, that is all easily accomplishable. Do you have your vault key for verification Heir Potter?”

“Unfortunately, no. It is in the possession of Albus Dumbledore.”

Narcissa sucked in a breath. Apparently, Draco had not informed her. “That will need to be dealt with immediately,” she was as calm as ever, but her voice was hard.

Glornuk nodded, “No matter,” he produced a sharp knife the size of a letter opener and offered it to Harry, “If you would prick your finger and put three drops of blood on this paper it will be identification enough. Then, I will record your wand, and you can use that in place of your key.” 

Harry did as directed, the blood dripping down onto the parchment. Narcissa pointed her wand at his finger and muttered a healing spell. Dudley watched in awe as the paper began to write on itself. Clinical black scrawl appeared on the page identifying Harry’s lineage and assets. Dudley’s eyes widened at the amount of money next to each vault. The vault they had entered before was just Harry’s trust fund. There was also James and Lily’s personal vault and the Potter family vault. Both the latter were pending until Harry became of age or took the lordship. There were also two other vaults listed under the Black family name. The first one was registered under a Sirius Black, and the other was the Black family vault itself. Narcissa gasped at this. Both were still pending. Apparently, there was a will reading that needed to occur. Two heriships, Potter and Peverell, were available to claim. He couldn’t claim the Potter lordship until thirteen, and the Peverell would be granted when he reached majority. The black heirship stumped everyone it seemed, yet it was also pending a will reading.

“What is the will that needs to be read?” Narcissa asked, breaking the silence.

“That of Sirius Black,” Glornuk replied.

“It was never read?” Narcissa asked at the same time Dudley blurted, “Who’s Sirius Black?”

Dudley looked over at his brother to see if the other boy was as confused as he was. The look in his eyes confirmed that he was.

“You don’t know?” Draco was incredulous.

Harry shook his head, “I’ve never heard of a person by that name.”

Narcissa seemed to gather herself. “Sirius Black was or is my cousin. I say ‘was’ because I thought my Aunt Walburga had disowned him, but I suppose she never got around to it. However, the rest of the wizarding world knows him because of his crimes. He was a Death Eater in the war and gave the Dark Lord information on how to find you and your parents. He then tracked down one of his best friends and murdered him as well as thirteen muggles,” she said all this in a matter-of-fact tone. “He was Lord Black after his father’s death, but one is stripped of their titles when they go to Azkaban.

“However, it looks like he willed most of his possessions to you before he was caught,” she looked contrite at this. “If I had known Harry, I would have turned over the vault to you.”

“It’s no matter, Narcissa. I wouldn’t have been able to care for it anyway. It’s good that you were able to manage the affairs when I couldn’t.”

“The will cannot be read in its entirety today because not all the recipients are present, but we can schedule a full reading, and I can unfreeze the accounts connected to Heir Potter.” The goblin tapped his finger against the paper in three different places, mumbled a bit of Gobbledegook, and the vaults transferred under Harry’s name. “Do you wish for the Malfoy family to make reparations because of their unlawful use of the Black family vault?” he asked Harry.

Harry immediately shook his head, “No, I believe Lady Malfoy’s help today is reparation enough.”

“Then the next order of business is setting up a coin purse for you,” at Harry’s slightly bewildered look, the goblin explained, “It is connected to your accounts here and will allow you to purchase items without needing to withdraw the money physically.” The process was relatively simple. There was a fee, and then Harry tested the black drawstring bag he was handed. “You just have to think of the amount you wish to withdraw, and it will present itself to you.” A second later, Harry pulled out five galleons. “The bag will deposit the money back when you place the coins in again.” Harry did so and was left with a once again empty purse. He pocketed the bag.

“How do I go about claiming my heirships?” He asked.

“I need to summon the heir rings from your vaults. Once you place them on your finger, they will resize as your magic accepts the family magic.” Glornuk reached into a drawer in his wide desk and began to rummage around for something before pulling out all three rings. The Potter ring was made of two strands of red and yellow twined around each other. The gemstone was a red ruby surrounded by yellow metal, and the stone was engraved with a stag. On the inside, the words “novissima autem inimica destruetur mors,” were carved.

“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death,” Narcissa translated, rightly assuming neither boy spoke Latin.

The Black family ring was garish, set in white gold with a large onyx stone. Engraved on the top was a raven outlined in white. Underneath the stone were the words, “Toujours Pur.”

“Always Pure,” Draco explained before Narcissa. Dudley shivered at that one. Harry grimaced and didn’t look too keen on the black motto, either.

The last ring was unassuming with no family motto. Instead, a clear diamond was set in a simple silver band and engraved with a triangle.

“Put on the rings in descending order of prominence,” Narcissa coached, “You are first and foremost the Potter heir, so that will go last. First, place the Peverell on your middle finger, the Black on your ring finger, and your Potter ring on your pinky. If you only had one heirship, it would be worn on your pinky, as that is the traditional signet ring finger.”

Draco produced his left hand and held it out to Harry. Just the one Malfoy ring shone on his little finger. The band was black, the gem Slytherin green, and engraved was a dragon with a serpent tail. Underneath the stone where the exactly where the Black family motto was on Harry’s ring were the words, “Sanctimonia vincet semper.”

“Purity will always conquer,” Draco clarified.

Dudley couldn’t hide a grimace.  _ No wonder he’s such a prat with that as his family motto. _

Without further ado, Harry picked up the Peverell ring and slid it on to his middle finger. There was a slight rush of air, and the ring glowed white before it settled on his hand. Harry repeated the process with the Black and Potter rings, each ring glowing the color of its gemstone and releasing a rush of magic.

“Well, now that’s settled,” Glornuk interrupted the silence, “We can move on to a detailed summary of your accounts, Heir Potter.”

Everything seemed to be in order; one of the Potter vaults was explicitly dedicated to books, heirlooms, and other family valuables. Narcissa informed Harry that that was perfectly normal. There were some heirlooms and items in the said vault that Harry wanted to investigate, but he wouldn’t waste the Malfoys’ time today. He could always come back in the summer.

“Now, about sheltering a person, not from the Potter line, that person would need to be accepted into your family’s magic. When you take the lordship, this person would essentially become your heir, until you have children or appoint a different heir.” Harry nodded his understanding. “There is a ritual to undergo that we can perform if the intended party is with us,” the goblin gave a knowing look at Dudley.

“He is,” affirmed Harry, “My cousin Dudley Dursley.”

“Very well, the ritual is rather simple. You need only clasp your hands together and repeat these words,” The goblin read them to Harry, who avidly memorized them.

“I, Harry James Potter, hereby offer you, Dudley Vernon Dursley, protection from the noble house of Potter. From this day forward, you are family. Any offense against you is an offense against the noble house of Potter. House Potter vows to shelter, feed, and defend you when you are in need. As head of House Potter, I invoke the family magicks to accept you,” there was another rush of air, and Dudley felt the magic settle on his skin. It was a warm embrace. Harry continued, “From now until forever, you are a member of House Potter. I hereby name you Dudley Robert Dursley-Potter. May Lady Magic bless this union,” Dudley smiled at his name. Robert had been his maternal grandfather's name, and Dudley was relieved not to carry his abusive father’s name anymore. Now that Dudley was officially part of House Potter, Harry went about setting up a fund just for him and a coin purse as well. 

“We appreciate your help today Master Glornuk,” said Harry gratefully.

“May wealth befall you,” Lady Malfoy addressed the goblin.

“And fortune guide your footsteps,” replied Glornuk formally. Both wizard and goblin bowed to each other, Draco, Harry, and Dudley copying their movements.

The winter sun shone brightly when the four wix emerged from the bank. Theo and Neville had promised to meet the other first years at noon. Theo was the first to arrive, an older boy in tow. He appeared to be just out of Hogwarts. His hair was the same shade of brown as Theo’s. His blue robes perfectly matched his eyes. There was no way the boys weren’t related. The three boys greeted each other before Theo introduced his companion. “This is my brother Thomas Selwyn,” Dudley vaguely remembered that the name was yet another registered on the sacred twenty-eight. Dudley wondered why the boys had different last names but thought it rude to ask.

The older boy smiled brightly. “Good to see you again, Heir Malfoy, My Lady,” he greeted with a small nod and bow to each. “And you must be Heir Potter,” he nodded his head again.

“This is Harry’s cousin Dudley Dursley,” Theo introduced the Gryffindor to his cousin.

“Dursley-Potter actually,” Dudley informed him proudly.

Theo grinned broadly, “You’ve done it then. Congratulations.”

Neville appeared soon after accompanied by his grandmother. Another round of introductions ensued. Lady Longbottom bristled at the presence of the Slytherins, especially Narcissa, but she said nothing. Her greeting was stiff but polite. For her part, Narcissa didn’t seem bothered by the older matriarch whatsoever.

The rest of the day was spent shopping. Dudley managed to pick out a wand holster dragonhide boots for Harry, a book for Hermione on wizarding culture, a book on muggle medicine, he was surprised to find, for Theo, nice chocolates for Draco, who had an incredible sweet tooth, a grow-your-own herb kit for Neville, and Draco helped him pick out a fashionable scarf glove set for Blaise. The best part of it all was that he could pay for everything with his own money. At the last minute, he decided to buy something for Fred and George at Gambol and Japes’ and some sweets for Dean.

Everyone was thoroughly exhausted by the time they were done. “Well, I must get these boys back to Hogwarts. It was good to see all of you,” Narcissa announced.

Lady Longbottom looked surprised, “You’re not going home for the holidays?” she addressed Harry and Dudley.

For once, Harry looked at a loss for what to say. An ungentlemanly, “Er...” slipped out of his mouth, and he looked to his brother for assistance.

Dudley thought hard. He could hardly say, “My parents don’t want us to come home,” or worse, “My dad’s an abusive drunkard, my mum’s a pushover, and they hate us because they think we’re freaks,” even though both statements were true. Why hadn’t they thought of a story sooner? When they had mentioned their plans to stay at Hogwarts over break, none of their friends had questioned them. Now it seemed as if everyone’s ears were perked. “It’s my Aunt Marge,” Dudley finally burst out, “She’s ill, and my parents have gone to take care of her. They won’t be back until after the break ends.”

“Besides,” added Hary, recovering himself, “We wanted to experience our first wizard Yule.”

Lady Longbottom looked sympathetic, but Neville and Theo shared a disbelieving glance. “I’m sorry about your aunt. I do hope she improves. Had I known you weren’t going home, I would have had Neville invite you to stay.”

“Maybe over the summer then,” Harry agreed quickly, “Well, I do believe I have taken up enough of Lady Malfoy’s time. It was wonderful to meet you, Lady Longbottom and you, Mr. Selwyn.”

Goodbyes were had all around with calls of “See you when term starts!” Narcissa led the boys back into Gringotts and they flooed from there to Malfoy manor. Harry thanked both Draco and Narcissa for their help again and then stepped into the flames and back out into Snape’s office.

\----

Christmas day came swiftly after that. Harry and Dudley held a small Yule celebration on the solstice, but it was a subdued affair without any of the others. The castle was extravagantly decorated. The great hall boasted the biggest tree Dudley had ever seen strewn with tinsel, baubles, and lit with real fairies. The rest of the castle got in on the fun as well; suits of armor croaked out Christmas carols, ghosts told stories of festivities from the days of old to anyone who would listen, and the sentient portraits called out Christmas greetings to all those that passed their frames. Even Dumbledore took to donning a red wizard hat, which in combination with his long white beard, gave him the appearance of a real live Saint Nick.

Hagrid had the boys for tea again, seemingly having forgiven them for their last meeting. He cheerily served them hot spiced cider instead of tea and had tried his hand at making chocolate fudge, which was, unfortunately, just as hard as his rock cakes.

The boys went to sleep on Christmas Eve together in Fred and George’s dorm. The two third years had invited them to stay when Dudley expressed his desire to wake up with his brother that morning. The older boys knew Dudley’s wish wouldn’t be well received by their younger brother, and while Harry and Dudley could have stayed in the Slytherin boy’s first year dorms, the dungeons weren’t as bright and cozy as Gryffindor tower. Ron, for his part, had somewhat calmed down since the incident after the Gryffindor/Slytherin quidditch match. He still made his dislike of Slytherins known when the twins told him of Harry’s plan to spend the night, but his outrage had turned to an angry sort of brooding. Even Seamus was wary of his behavior now seeing that most people were taking Dudley’s lead, and Dudley thought the lack of support and friends was most likely taking a toll on the boy. He would have pitied him, Dudley knew what that kind of rage could do to a person unchecked, if not for his vicious attacks on his friends.

Neither Harry nor Dudley was expecting much when they woke up. They always managed to give each other something for the holiday, and perhaps consciously they knew one or two of their friends might get them something, but when Dudley opened his eyes to a large pile of presents at the foot of his bed, he squeaked. His brother was in the bed next to him, still asleep. 

Throwing back the covers, he jumped up and shook Harry awake, “Harry, Harry, come look! We have presents!”

The other boy groaned and blearily opened his green eyes, “Wha’zat?” he asked groggily.

“Presents!” Dudley repeated insistently pointing to the end of Harry’s bed. Harry turned his head, and his mouth formed an “oh,” shape when eyes hit upon the packages.

“Presents,” He breathed reverently.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying,” Dudley shook his head exasperatedly, but he couldn’t keep the smile from forming on his face. His brother’s happy, awed expression was the best Christmas gift he was going to get that year. No one deserved a proper Christmas more than Harry.

The twins were already awake and digging into their pile, “Come on, you two,” Fred said.

“Those presents aren’t going to open themselves,” George agreed. When Dudley and Harry had started in on their haul, the brothers exchanged a look. The conversation they’d witnessed wasn’t lost on them. They knew of Hermione’s growing suspicion that something wasn’t right at home for the younger boys. It was further confirmed when neither boy opened a package from their relatives.

“Oh, they probably just forgot with Aunt Marge being sick,” Harry evaded, sticking to the story they came up with at Diagon Alley. But the twins saw the disappointment and resignation that flickered over Dudley’s features at the realization. Harry seemed to have caught the look as well because he nudged his brother and pressed a tightly wrapped present into his hands. “From me,” The black-haired boy explained.

Dudley inspected the silver package before opening. Harry’s wrapping skills had increased exponentially over the years, most likely because he had been required to wrap all of Dudley’s presents for the Durselys every Christmas. A few Christmases ago, Dudley decided to learn how to wrap packages from Harry, and the boys had had hours of fun horsing around with the bows and throwing Dudley’s failed wrapping attempts at each other. That same year, he tricked his parents into buying things for Harry by telling them he wanted them for Christmas. Dudley had taken to finding them, hiding them under his bed, and then wrapping them. He always managed to get Harry to open them without his parents knowing. His wrapping hadn’t much improved, but he gave it his best effort.

Dudley tore into the packaging, almost regretful of destroying it. Once uncovered, he found a picture of him and Harry smiling after a boxing match. Judging by medal around his neck, he’d placed first in whatever tournament he’d competed in. He had a big goofy grin on his face and an arm leisurely thrown around his brother's shoulders. He watched as the picture began to move in its frame. His photo self waved to the camera then jiggled his medal for everyone to see. His other hand ruffled Harry’s hair, and the other boy turned to smile at him. Their picture selves continued to make affectionate and celebratory movements, always returning to their original positions within a few moments. 

“You finally got them developed,” Dudley said. Dudley had gotten a disposable camera for his birthday one year and gifted it to Harry, who seemed interested in the thing. The boy had lugged it around with him everywhere to photograph memorable moments. “But how did you get it to move?”

“A potion,” Harry shrugged as if it was no big deal. Dudley had a feeling that whatever potion he’d used was way beyond first year level.

Dudley placed the photograph gingerly on the bed. “On that note,” he handed Harry one of his presents. Harry unwrapped the package much more carefully than Dudley had. Once the paper fell away, he held another camera, but this one was designed for wizarding photos. “I know you ran out of film a while ago. I thought you might like a new one. But this one you don’t have to throw away.” Dudley had sent for it after he had seen an advertisement for one in the  _ Daily Prophet _ . This model, the Specto series from Sentio, was the Nimbus 2000 of cameras. And Dudley could now afford it because of Harry’s generosity.

His brother’s face lit up in awe as he stared at it. “This... this is a Specto Momentum. Dudley, this is the nicest camera on the market,” Harry whispered.

Dudley just shrugged, “You like taking pictures.”

Harry put the camera down and threw his arms around his brother. He squeezed tight, and burrowed his face into Dudley’s pajama shirt. Dudley could feel tears press into the fabric. Neither had to say it: this was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for Harry.

The boys’ moment was interrupted by George’s cough. “Er,” Dudley stammered, a blush slowly creeping up his face. Harry hastily wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Why don’t you lads take a picture to celebrate?” Fred suggested.

“It has a timer feature,” Dudley piped up, “If you want to set it down somewhere, you can tap it with your wand and speak the number of seconds you want the flash delayed.”

“Amazing,” Harry smiled.

The boys took a couple of pictures with Harry’s new camera and even a few with Fred and George. Harry hung the camera around his neck for the rest of the morning, snapping photos of their first happy Christmas together. Once everything was unwrapped, both boys had a sizable haul. Harry was thankful for the wand holster and boots. They had thought alike, as Harry had gifted him with dragonhide gloves for herbology and a new pair of cleats.

“These are Nike!” Dudley exclaimed, “How did you manage to get them?”

Harry just smiled, “I have my ways.”

The presents from their friends were smaller. Hermione had gifted them both books; Dudley’s was a rare, in-depth field journal of Newt Scamander’s son, who also studied magical creatures. Harry’s book was a guide to the experimental qualities of potions. Neville sent both of them books as well; Harry’s was on exotic plants used in potions, and Dudley’s was on gardening techniques for dangerous magical plants. Theo gave Dudley some merchandise from Chelsea, Dudley's preferred football team, and a photo developing kit for Harry. Blaise got them both a matching sweater and scarf set. Even Draco got them presents. They both received a box of assorted sweets. 

They had both sat down to crack open the books Hermione sent when George caught their attention, “I think you missed one mate,” he said, holding out a package to Harry.

Harry took the parcel and read the note that lay atop it to the other boys, “It just says ‘ Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you.  Use it well.’”

Dudley’s eyebrows furrowed, “No sender?” Dudley asked. Harry shook his head. “What could that mean?” Harry shrugged in reply.

Harry finished unwrapping the gift, and a silvery cloak unfurled.

“Blimey!” Fred gasped, “Do you know what that is?”

When both boys shook their heads, George elaborated, “That’s an invisibility cloak, that is.”

“I’ve only ever read about them,” Harry expressed in awe.

“What’s an invisibility cloak?” Dudley asked.

“Put it on, Harry, and show him,” George requested, “I want to see it in action.”

Harry did as asked and donned the cloak.

“Bloody hell!” Dudley exclaimed in shock. His eyes widened to the size of saucers. Harry’s entire body disappeared into thin air. When he put up the hood, it was as if he’d never been there at all.

“I’ve never seen one that good,” Fred admitted.

“Most of them are pretty faulty,” George agreed, “Holes and such.”

“Or they wear out,” Fred added, “But that one... And it was your dad’s... Think of what we could do with that, Georgie.” A manic gleam shown in the twins’ eyes.

“You’ll have to let us borrow it one day,” George concurred, “We’ll take good care of it. I promise.”

Harry laughed at their eagerness, “Better let me have a go before you try it on for size.”

Fred smiled, “Gotta remember, though, it only makes you invisible. People could still hear you if you go sneaking about.”

\----

They spent the rest of the day staging a snowball fight. They even managed to get Percy to take a break from his studies and join in. When they tired themselves out, they curled up in front of the fire in the common room and played a game of exploding snap. The feast didn’t disappoint; roast turkey and ham were piled high on platers with cranberry dressing and mashed potatoes. Roasted vegetables abounded. The boys stuffed themselves silly and barely had room enough for the treacle tart, mince pies, and spiced apples that appeared for dessert.

After the festivities ended and all the boys bid each other goodnight, Harry and Dudley donned the invisibility cloak and snuck out of Gryffindor tower.

“Where should we go?” Dudley inquired.

Harry paused around the corner from the entrance to the tower; the fat lady had been perplexed and aggravated at being woken up so late. “The restricted section? I’m sure they’ll have more books that could lead us to Flamel.”

Dudley agreed, and they headed in the direction of the library. They got through the gate to the restricted section with a whispered, “alohomora,” both surprised it had been that easy. Dudley cast a “lumos,” and Harry started to scan the titles. But it all went south when they tried to open the books. The pages came alive and began to shriek. Soon all the books had woken up, and the noise was incredible. There was no way Filch wouldn’t notice.

“Run!” Dudley screamed over the noise. Both boys scampered back out into the hall and ran away from Filch’s voice. They ran until they got lost, and Harry pushed open the first available door. They closed it as quietly as they could, trying to get a handle on their breathing. When they finally calmed down, Dudley noticed they weren’t alone. Luckily, this time it wasn’t Fluffy they were sharing the room with.

“Harry,” Dudley pointed, “A mirror.”

“What’s it doing here?” His brother asked.

“Beats me,” Dudley replied. 

He took a few more tentative steps toward it. In this school, one could never be too careful. For all he knew, Bloody Mary was waiting to jump out with a knife to kill him. When he stood in the mirror, and nothing happened, he relaxed. He began to examine the words around the top, but they appeared even more jumbled than usual. When he looked back into the mirror, he let out a gasp. Staring back at him was himself, but his friends surrounded him. Harry had an arm slung around his shoulders, and Hannah was patting his shoulder with a look of pride on her face. Two other adults stood behind him; one looked exceptionally like Harry, and the other had his bright green eyes. He could only assume they were his Aunt Lily and Uncle James. Behind them, the smiling faces of Hermione, Neville, Blaise, Theo, and Draco beamed at him. Each gave a little wave in turn. He glanced back to see if there was anyone behind him, but not even Harry was standing next to him.

“Harry, Harry! You have to see this!” He shouted.

The other boy barely registered his shout. “It’s an anagram,” He muttered, looking at the words above the mirror.

“Seriously, Harry, leave that and come look in it!” Dudley pulled his brother by the arm in front of the mirror. But when his brother appeared at his side in the reflection, the rest of his friends and family disappeared.

“What am I looking at?” Harry inquired, perplexed.

“That’s so weird. When I was looking into it, I saw a bunch of people; I even saw your parents, Harry! Go on, you try.” He shoved his brother to the center and stepped out.

Harry’s eyes widened, “It’s me. But it’s not like you said. I don’t have my scar. And look! I’ve graduated Hogwarts as Head Boy, and I passed my N.E.W.T.s with all Os! And I’ve got an internship! That’s incredible,” Harry stared in wonder at his reflection, “You think this mirror could show the future?”

“Maybe?” Dudley mused, “But then, no. If it did, I can’t’ve seen your parents, can I? They’re dead.”

Harry looked crestfallen for a second, then his face smoothed out again. “Then what does it do?” He took a step back so he could read the writing on the mirror again.

Dudley followed him, “Is it just me, or is that lettering more messed up than usual?”

Harry laughed, “It’s not just you, Lee. The words don’t make any sense. I think it might be a puzzle.” He pulled out the parchment he had taken to jot down notes about Flamel if they found any. “ _ Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi,” _ he copied.

“Well, don’t expect me to help. I’m not sure those are even letters anymore.”

Harry stared at the parchment while Dudley sat in front of the mirror, enjoying the feeling of family. Harry kept glancing at his brother, but Dudley didn’t notice. It started to give him a nervous feeling in his stomach. After a while, when it became clear that Harry wasn’t going to decipher the puzzle tonight, he decided to rouse Dudley.

“I think it’s time to go back, Lee.”

“You don’t want another turn before we go?”

“I think I’m okay. To be honest, I get a bad feeling from this thing. I’m not sure we’re meant to stare at it this long,” Harry replied.

Dudley turned his head from the mirror to look at his brother, “It’s just a mirror, Harry. It seems pretty harmless.”

“Seriously, I think we should head back,” Harry urged.

“Fine,” Dudley groused.

They went back for the night, and Harry tried to put the mirror out of his mind. But Dudley couldn’t. He was obsessed with the way everyone was smiling proudly at him, like he belonged. He took to stealing Harry’s cloak and sitting in front of the mirror for hours. The fourth night Harry caught him.

“You’re not going searching for that mirror again are you?” he accused, sleepily.

“So what if I am?” Dudley defended.

“I just think it could be dangerous,” Harry replied, “I don’t want you to get too caught up in it, Lee. It’s not real.” When Dudley still didn’t look persuaded, Harry added, “Look, I figured out the words. It says, ‘I show not your face but your heart’s desire.’ It’s just showing you what you want to see.”

“And what if I want to see it?”

“Fine. I can’t stop you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Upon reaching the room with the mirror, he had just sat down when a voice sounded behind him.

“Back again, Dudley?” came Dumbledore’s articulate tones.

Dudley squeaked, “Headmaster! I didn’t see you!”

“Ah, I have other ways of making myself invisible,” he explained, “It was nice of young Harry to lend you his cloak.”

“Er, yeah,” he stammered.

“He did not want you coming here tonight.”

It wasn’t a question, but Dudley answered anyway, “No.”

“Did he tell you what it does?” Dumbledore inquired, “I assume he has figured it out by now.”

“Er, yeah, he did actually,” Dumbledore looked at him expectantly, “It shows your desires.”

“Not just a desire, your deepest desire. You place importance on your family. You wish for nothing more than a happy life with them. Young Harry has been lauded for his scar ever since he was introduced to this world and wishes only to succeed on his own merit. However, this mirror gives us neither knowledge nor truth. It will be moved somewhere else tomorrow. I urge you, as Harry did, to not go looking for it again.”

“Yes, Sir,” he paused, “Er, Sir, if it’s not too much, can I ask, what do you see in the mirror?”

“A nice pair of thick, woolen socks. One can never have too many socks. Now I do believe it is time for you to go to bed,” the headmaster smiled genially at him and bid him, “good night.”

\----

Harry was waiting for him when he got back, “You’re earlier than I thought you would be.”

“I met Dumbledore. He was waiting for me.”

“And what did he say?” Harry questioned.

“Er, he told me about what we see and why and that the mirror will be moved tomorrow.”

“I suppose that’s for the best,” Harry replied, “You’re lucky you didn’t get in trouble.”

“I suppose the old man let me off in the spirit of Christmas,” Dudley quipped. It had the effect of making Harry lighten up a bit. “He also told me that he sees socks in the mirror, but now that I think about it, I don’t think that’s entirely truthful.”

Harry let out a guffaw then stifled it with a pillow. Fred and George grunted in their sleep but didn’t wake, “No, I quite doubt it.”

“Oh,” Dudley remembered, “He also knew it was your cloak.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyebrows rose into his messy hair, “Then what are the chances that he’s the one that gave it to me?”

“Pretty good, I guess,” Dudley agreed.

Harry stared off into the middle distance with a pensive expression on his face, “But then if he gave me the cloak, he had to know I’d go sneaking about with it. And this is a headmaster who keeps an unknown valuable object guarded by a vicious three-headed dog in a school full of children. You think he wanted me to find Fluffy?”

Dudley shuddered, “I think that’s a disturbing thought.”

Harry nodded, “Well, at least we’ll have loads to tell everyone when they get back.”

That night as Harry lay awake thinking, Dudley had weird dreams about angry three-headed dogs, gaping vaults that trap you underground, and mirrors that swallow you whole.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amid football matches and practices, the crew gets closer to uncovering the mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys, first I want to apologize for the long wait. I hope nobody thought I'd abandoned this! It's taken me a while to get settled into my new life, so everything was pretty crazy for a while. On top of that, this chapter turned out to be a whopper. I also got the itch to go through and edit previous chapters in places that I thought were lacking. There weren't many significant changes, mostly just some grammar touch-ups, but I did add a mention of Harry's scar hurting in chapter 6. I also took out the scene in Harry's POV in chapter 4. I originally planned to jump around a bit with POVs, while keeping it mostly Dudley's, but as the story progressed, it seemed less and less necessary. Otherwise, I did a bit more world-building, but nothing truly integral to understanding the story.  
> I can't promise the last chapter will be out as soon as I want it to be, as I have a job again, but I highly doubt it will be as long a wait as it was for this one.  
> Also, there are mentions of PTSD flashbacks/dissociation in this chapter but it's very vague- nothing specific. Just be aware if you're sensitive to that.  
> Thanks for sticking with me, and as always, I hope you enjoy!

Hermione, Neville, and the rest of the Slytherins returned just before the second term started. They were all disappointed that no one managed to figure out who Flamel was over the holidays. The crew met in an abandoned classroom the day before term started to catch up and discuss their holidays. Everyone was intrigued by Harry’s mysterious cloak and demanded to try it on. While everyone took their turn, Harry and Dudley regaled them with their nightly adventures.

“You made it into the restricted section?” Hermione asked with reverence, “I’m not sure whether to ask you a billion questions or reprimand you for breaking the rules.”

Everyone had a good laugh at that.

“It’s not every day you can stump Hermione Granger,” Blaise remarked, “Good job, mate.” He gave Dudley a friendly pat on the back. Dudley smiled good-naturedly at him. 

Theo turned to Hermione, “I think it’s a little late for you to complain about us breaking the rules. You are complicit in these unsavory sleuthing activities. I’m not sure McGonagall would approve.” He smirked, and Hermione blushed.

“What were you saying about Dumbledore?” Neville asked, “And was there something about a mirror?”

“Yeah,” Dudley confirmed and shared an uneasy look with his brother, “That’s where things get creepy.” The boys explained the weird note that came with the cloak, the mirror of Erised, which Hermione had heard of to no one’s surprise, and Dumbledore’s ominous conversation with Dudley.

“I don’t like it,” Neville trembled.

“I knew that crackpot was no good. Father always said he was the worst thing to happen to this school,” Draco sniped. Dudley gave him a look, and the blonde boy piped down.

“I think the more pressing issue is whether he gave you that cloak,” Theo addressed Harry, “Your father may not like him, Draco, but there’s a reason the Dark Lord feared him. The man is smart. If he wanted you to go sneaking about, he would have a reason. Personally, I’m not partial to being used as a chess piece in someone else’s game.” Dudley felt a chill up his spine. By everyone else’s reactions, he could tell he wasn’t the only one.

“So then, the only way to figure what he’s up to is to figure out who Flamel is,” Hermione determined, “We have to do what he wants us to do.”

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right,” Theo agreed.

“Wait,” Neville said, “Do you think Dumbledore could be the one who jinxed Harry at the football match?”

Dudley shook his head, “No, couldn’t be, could it? What would he gain by harming Harry if he wants him to figure out what Fluffy’s guarding?”

“He could be trying to throw us off his trail,” Blaise suggested.

“It seems unlikely. No, I agree with Dudley. I think someone else jinxed Harry’s cleats,” Hermione maintained.

“If Dumbledore is involved with this Flamel character,” Harry started, “What if he’s the key to figuring out what that dog is hiding? There has to be a reason Flamel trusted Dumbledore with whatever was in the package. Maybe we should research him?”

Everyone nodded. “Might as well,” Draco said, “It’s not like we’ve got anything else to go on.”

\----

Amid their search, football practices started up again. The Slytherins were set to play Ravenclaw right before Gryffindor played Hufflepuff. Unfortunately, Gryffindor was sorely losing to Slytherin in Quidditch, so many of Dudley’s housemates were focusing more on their football matches than the beloved wizarding sport. Even Seamus, who was perplexed by Dean’s West Ham poster on the first night in the dorms, began to pester Dean, Neville, and Dudley about the rules so he could understand the game. Dudley was surprised to see that rivalries started to spring up between the houses over the sport. But unlike Quidditch, all the ribbing and smack talk was in good fun. Theo and Draco had taken to jokingly calling out insults at Dudley and Neville, and to all the Gryffindors’ amazement, Neville gave as good as he got.

Dudley and Neville were secretly pleased when Slytherin beat Ravenclaw at the end of January. They were delighted with how far their friends had come. Daphne and Theo put a lot of work into coaching the team, and it showed. If they could just beat Hufflepuff, they had a good shot at the cup. Some of the grouchier Ravenclaws were calling foul play because Snape had decided to referee the game, but it was clear to everyone that attended the match that the Slytherins deserved the win.

The upcoming match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was highly anticipated. Although both teams had only played one game, they had both won their first games. Whichever team won would have a significant chance of qualifying for the first-place match. 

Dean started to apply a lot of pressure to the team, “This is our second game. Slytherin almost had us in the last match, and one of the reasons we won is because Potter’s shoes were jinxed. We’ve seen Hufflepuff play now. They have a good offense, but their defense is lacking. If we can sure-up our defensive line, I doubt we’ll have any trouble scoring goals. That means we’ll need you in top form, Neville.”

Even though the smaller boy had become confident on the field, he still looked a bit green at this. “Don’t worry, Nev,” Dudley reassured him, “The saves you made last game were incredible. We all believe you can do it.” There was a round of nods from the other players.

Most practices dissolved into Dudley running drills with the defensive line and Dean working with the offense. Then they’d divide the team, and Dudley would practice his keeper skills.

While Dudley and Neville were out on the field, Hermione and the Slytherins searched the library for more clues. Hermione had worked through  _ A History of the Wizengamot, and it’s Chief Warlocks _ ,  _ Modern Supreme Mugwumps, and their effect on Society Today _ , as well as numerous tomes about Dumbledore’s defeat of Grindewald. She learned a lot but nothing of import to their current research. There were multiple biographies of Dumbledore’s early life, but most were sensationalist and unreliable. Not one mentioned Flamel.

February came, and Dean had the team out on the field every night. From what Dudley had heard from Fred and George, he seemed to be taking a page out of Gryffindor quidditch captain Oliver Wood’s book. Dudley and Neville struggled to get their homework done and might have fallen behind if it weren’t for Hermione. Dudley promised himself he’d buy a basket of the finest chocolate for her once this game was over. 

It was freezing on the day of the match. Everyone had to spell their clothes with heating charms, the field had to be rid of snow, and Madam Hooch had to erect a bubble around the pitch so that the players could have an easier time breathing in the cold air. Spectators donned their gloves, hats, and scarves and huddled close to each other.

Madam Hooch was back to refereeing; something Dudley was extremely grateful for. He doubted Snape could remain unbiased in a Gryffindor match.

The match wasn’t nearly as exciting as the Gryffindor/Slytherin match. Amy was able to make a few goals, and the team played admirably. Dudley was, however, thankful that no one’s cleats had been tampered with. 

Neville, however, soon became the one to beat. When Nida had to be replaced after a badly sprained ankle, the defense lost a bit of its strength. The plays became sloppier and less coordinated. But Neville never lost focus. Some of his saves made it seem as though he apparated. One particular save involved him jumping what looked like ten feet into the air to catch the ball before it went in. The twins’ commentary grew increasingly excited after every save. By the time the end of the second half rolled around, the Hufflepuff team hadn’t been able to make any goals. Neville rode off the field on the Gryffindor’s shoulders. 

\----

When the team returned to the common room, it was decorated in red and gold streamers with a big banner that read: “Neville Forever! Go Lions!” The only people who looked put out were McClaggen, a second year boy who played seeker for the quidditch team, and Ron. 

Neville blushed bright red at the banner as the twins handed him a butterbeer.

“You supply all this food?” Dudley asked.

“Of course, mate!” George answered.

“Couldn’t miss the chance to celebrate our star keeper!” Fred said, slinging an arm around Neville’s shoulders.

“We slipped a few of our inventions into the candies,” George admitted.

“Don’t try the fudge unless you want to wear red and gold stripes for a while,” Fred grinned. He took his arm from around Neville’s shoulders, flagged down Lee, and he and his brother faded back into the crowd.

“Here. Have a chocolate frog, Neville,” Dudley said, approaching the snack table, “You’ve earned it,” Dudley praised handing the chocolate over.

Neville beamed at him, “Thanks, mate.” He took his time savoring the sweet before looking at the card.

“Who’d you get?” Dudley inquired.

“Dumbledore,” The blonde replied, “You want it?”

“Nah, I’ve already got one.”

Before Dudley could turn the conversation to something else, Neville let out a huge gasp. “Lee, look!” Dudley whipped his head to see what Neville was pointing at. He had his finger over the description of Dumbledore. “Nicholas Flamel!” The boy practically shouted.

Hermione was drawn over by Neville’s raised voice. “Keep it down, Neville. Someone will hear,” She said, casting a surreptitious glance around the room.

“No look, Hermione,” He replied, lowering his voice, “I’ve found him. He’s here.”

Hermione scanned the card and let out a gasp as big as Neville’s.

“What?” Dudley asked, “What does it say?”

“ Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel,” Hermione read in a hushed voice, “There’s also a bit about bowling, but it’s not important.”

“So he’s an alchemist then,” Dudley affirmed.

Hermione perked up, “I’ve had it this whole time, haven’t I?” She mumbled to herself.

“What are you talking about?” Dudley asked perplexed.

“There’s a book; I’ve got it upstairs. It’s about the most important advancements in alchemy,” she explained excitedly, “I checked it out at the beginning of the year for research, but with everything going on, I haven’t been able to read it. Flamel’s been right under our noses the whole time.”

\----

The Gryffindors called a meeting in the library the day after. Hermione had stayed up late the night of the match scanning the book, which turned out to be more of a tome, to present her findings to the group. They found a secluded corner empty and settled around the large round table.

When Theo got a look at the size of the book, his eyes went wide, “I’m as studious as the next, Hermione, but Merlin, what could you have wanted to research? That’s an O.W.L. level text at best.”

Hermione blushed and mumbled something about “light reading” and “pursuing potions.”

“Yes, yes, we all know Granger is impressive,” Draco drawled with a wave of his hand as if to push the comment aside, “But what does it say about Flamel?”

Harry read the magically highlighted section over Hermione’s shoulder, “He’s the only known maker of the philosopher’s stone.”

“Bloody hell,” Blaise breathed. Theo and Draco nodded too stunned to speak.

“Philosopher’s stone?” Dudley asked.

Hermione nodded, “Even the muggles have stories of this one. Probably because it was made before the statute of secrecy came into effect.”

“Okay, but what does it do?” Dudley pressed.

“A lot of things,” Draco supplied, “it turns metals into gold, but it also creates the elixir of life, which can make the drinker immortal.”

“No wonder someone’s trying to get at it,” Dudley agreed.

“So then the question becomes, who do we know of that wants it?” Blaise posed.

“Who wouldn’t?” Dudley countered.

“Well, me for one,” Neville said, “I think it would be lonely watching everyone you love grow old and die without you.”

“Besides,” Theo added, “the Olde Ways teach us that death is a natural part of life. Nothing is meant to last forever. From death comes rebirth, and the wheel begins again.” Neville and the other Slytherins nodded their assent.

“So then it’s someone who wouldn’t honor the Olde Ways, who’s powerful enough to break into Hogwarts, which is known for its wards, and can get past Dumbledore,” Draco summed up.

“Or someone brave enough to try,” Blaise countered.

“So probably not Snape then,” Hermione said, “that wouldn’t make any sense. He may have a strange grudge against Harry, and a general disregard for student’s welfare,” she earned a few glares from the Slytherins at that one, “but I doubt he’d go as far as thwarting Dumbledore to get at the stone. What real use would he have for it anyway?”

Dudley could see the logic in that, but something niggled at the back of his mind. He recalled the conversation he’d had with Theo about Snape’s days at Hogwarts and how he had fallen in with some of the people who supported the Dark Lord in the wizarding war.

“What if he was getting it for someone else?” Dudley asked.

Theo shook his head, “I know what you’re thinking, but I highly doubt it. There’s no evidence against him.”

The others looked lost. “What are you thinking?” Blaise questioned.

Dudley looked to Theo, “Well, Theo told me a few things about Snape a while back, and he said something about him being friends with people who followed the Dark Lord.” He risked a glance at Draco.

Draco stiffened at the implication, “I’ll have you know my father was under the imperious curse,” he defended, hotly, “Besides, the Dark Lord is dead.”

“They never did find a body,” Neville said in a small voice, “For all we know, he’s out there biding his time waiting to come back.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Just because there was no body doesn’t mean he’s not dead. People only spout that nonsense to get little kids to eat their vegetables. ‘You better eat up, or You-Know-Who will get you.’” He said mockingly.

Blaise contemplated the issue for a moment. “The Dark Lord would be a good candidate for someone who wanted the stone- if he were still alive,” he added before Draco could interrupt, “but not through Professor Snape. As Theo said, there’s no evidence he ever supported the Dark Lord.”

“It would make a sort of sense if it were You-Know-Who,” Hermione said, “because I’m betting whoever is trying to steal the stone is the one who jinxed Harry’s shoes at the match.”

“So, say it was the Dark Lord,” Dudley said, “why would Dumbledore want Harry to figure it out? He’s one of the most dangerous wizards who ever lived.”

Harry’s eyebrows knit together. “Well, I’m the one who defeated him last time. Maybe he thinks I’ll do it again.” He frowned.

“That’s bloody stupid!” Dudley exclaimed, “You’re eleven, a first year, how could you be expected to face You-Know-Who?”

“And if Dumbledore knows it’s You-Know-Who, why isn’t he doing anything about it?” Neville asked.

“Every time we get an answer, we get even more questions,” Draco groused.

“Well, it has to be someone at the school,” Hermione mused, “Let’s start there. I’m still not convinced Snape is innocent, but we should set up shifts to watch the corridor and see who’s sneaking around. We can use Harry’s cloak. That is, if you’re okay with it, Harry?”

“I also have a cloak,” Blaise offered. “It’s not as good as Harry’s, but it will do.”

“I suppose that’s best,” Harry agreed, “Whoever’s trying to get at this thing is trying to kill me too.”

\----

The next match, Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin wasn’t scheduled until the end of March on account of quidditch games, so the Slytherins were able to watch the corridor with the Gryffindors. They were lucky to have the cloak as there had been several close shaves with Ms. Norris and, subsequently, Filch.

It wasn’t until the middle of March that they found anything interesting. Dudley was late getting to the corridor after having lost track of time doing homework. As the door came into view, he could hear angry whispering voices. He moved silently closer to see who was talking.

“I-I- d-d-don’t kn-know what y-your t-t-talking about S-Severus,” came the first voice, obviously Quirrell. He would have known him by his stutter even if the smell of garlic wasn’t permeating the whole hall.

“You know very well what mean,” came Snape’s voice from the shadows. Dudley crept closer to get a better view. Snape was cornering Quirrell with his hand pinning the other professor against the wall. Their faces were so close Snape’s long nose almost brushed against Quirrell’s. “I think you should consider very carefully what you’re doing. You do not want me as an enemy.”

Quirrell would have flinched back if he had anywhere else to go. “S-S-Severus, p-please.” 

Snape pulled back and straightened his robes. “You’ve been warned,” he hissed before stalking off towards Dudley. Dudley had only a few seconds to press himself against the wall or be found out. As the potions professor passed him, he turned in Dudley’s direction. Dudley expected to see fury on his face, or at least his regular scornful expression, but instead, he only saw a fleeting glimpse of worry before it smoothed out into Snape’s usual sneer.

After a few moments, Dudley ran back to the Gryffindor common room. In a hushed voice, he relayed the events in the corridor to Hermione and Neville. “Don’t you see? It has to be Snape!” Dudley explained, “He’s trying to get past Fluffy to get the stone! Quirrell must know how and Snape’s trying to get him to tell him.”

Neville seemed convinced, but Hermione had her contemplative face on. “I don’t know, Lee. It almost seems as though he’s guarding it.”

“Guarding it from who?” Dudley asked, “From Quirrell? Are you serious? The man is scared of his own shadow.”

“I know,” she conceded, “But he didn’t say anything specific about Fluffy. Besides, he warned Quirrell not to do what he was doing.”

“That could mean anything!” Dudley argued.

“Exactly,” Hermione agreed.

Dudley wanted to smack his head on the table. He loved his nerdy friend, but she could be so infuriating. Neville, ever the compromiser, placated both his friends, “Either of you could be right. So, we’ll keep an eye on Quirrell and Snape.”

\----

The Slytherins agreed with Hermione, up to a point. While they still maintained that Snape would never go after the stone, they also thought it was unlikely that Quirrell was trying to steal it.

“For all we know, they were talking about something completely unrelated,” Draco said, examining his nails. 

“In the middle of the third-floor corridor?” Dudley asked, incredulously, “Right next to Fluffy’s door?”

Blaise hummed in contemplation, “Well, I expect the teacher’s lounge is often crowded. Perhaps it was private, and they wanted a place they knew no one would hear?”

“So we’re right back to where we started,” Harry sighed.

“What about Hagrid?” Neville pipped up.

“Hagrid?” Theo asked, his eyebrows coming together. “Why would he want to steal the stone?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that,” Neville replied, “It’s just he let slip about Fluffy last time maybe he’d let something slip again.”

Blaise grinned his signature smirk, “Did Neville Longbottom just suggest we trick someone into giving us information? Quite the little Slytherin.” Neville blushed bright red.

“It’s a sound plan,” Theo agreed. “At least, it’s the best one we’ve got.”

Unfortunately, they found they didn’t have much time to spare. Teachers started to pile on more and more homework as the end of term neared. When they weren’t keeping to Hermione’s rigorous study schedule or in class, they practiced for their third matches of the year. These last two matches would determine who played in the final game for first place. Gryffindor had won two games already, making them a shoo-in for the last game. Ravenclaw had lost their previous two games, meaning they had no chance of winning the cup. Everybody who was following the football games, and they had amassed quite a following, was anxious for the Slytherin/Hufflepuff game. The outcome of the game would determine who was playing Gryffindor in the first-place match. Both teams had played solid games against Ravenclaw, and although both had lost to Gryffindor, they had put up a fight. In the quidditch world, Slytherin was fast overtaking every team. Students were finding it much more interesting to watch games they couldn’t automatically predict the outcome of.

Gryffindor played Ravenclaw with no trouble. Dudley honestly felt bad for the team as they hadn’t managed to win any matches that season. But not for lack of trying. They had scored several goals, just not enough. Dudley went to talk to a dejected Waters and Fischer, the Ravenclaw team captains, to try to cheer them up. “You’ve still got the third-place match,” he encouraged, “It’s not a chance for first, but it’s a title. If you keep training hard, I’m sure you’ll win.” They thanked him, but it didn’t seem to cheer them up at all.

Most of the Hufflepuff and Slytherin teams stayed through Easter break to practice for the upcoming match. Dudley, Hermione, and Neville stayed in support and attended most of the Slytherin team’s practice, when somebody wasn’t watching Snape, Quirell, or the third-floor corridor.

Dudley was impressed with their progress and honestly thought they had a chance at winning the match. If they did, they’d advance to the first place match and play Gryffindor for the title.

The Saturday of the match was a bright April day with not a cloud in the sky. Dudley and the rest of their group proudly displayed their Slytherin pride. Dudley expected to get some flack from Weasley about the green and silver, but the other boy said nothing, even if he glowered through breakfast. Dudley, Hermione, and Neville wished the Slytherin team good luck before they followed them down to the pitch. Dudley vehemently hoped that nothing befell his brother this time, even if his match against Ravenclaw was okay.

The match was tense. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, and eyes avidly followed the black and white ball around the field. Neither team managed to score in the first half, and the Weasley twins’ usually jovial commentary was more professional, fitting the mood. By then end of the second half, the score was still zero-zero, so the players took a five-minute break before the two ten-minute periods in overtime. When Draco finally scored a goal, the Slytherin supporters let out a huge, relieved sigh, which quickly turned into raucous cheers. In the last five minutes of the game, Megan Jones almost scored a goal against Millicent Bulstrode, but the Slytherin keeper blocked it at the last second. As the Gryffindors left after congratulating their friends, Dudley wished he could be in the Slytherin common room for the party he knew the house would be holding.

\----

The group trouped down to Hagrid’s hut after classes the next Friday. The gigantic man was especially surprised to see all of them.

“If I’da known ye’d be comin’ I woulda put the kettle on fer a cuppa!” He exclaimed, ushering them in the door. Everyone sat or stood around Hagrid’s large table. He placed what appeared to be rock cakes and leftover fudge on the table for them to enjoy. He put his kettle on to brew and then went to sit in a chair by the fire. Now and then, he’d prod at a metal pot, resembling a cauldron, that was resting in the flames. The students chatted about their classes thus far. Draco even added comments here and there, keeping a surprisingly civil tongue. The gamekeeper started to relax around the blonde and even engaged him in a conversation about welsh green dragons. 

“Er, Hagrid, what is that?” Neville asked, pointing to what hagrid was currently poking. 

“Er, nuthin’ ye need ter be concerned with,” He replied, shiftily. All the students glanced around at that. Those words coming out of Hagrid’s mouth never boded well.

“Hagrid, that’s not another creature, is it?” Hermione prayed.

“Er, well...” Whatever was in the pot began to rattle.

“Oh, Merlin,” Draco breathed, “that’s not what I think it is, is it?”

“I s’ppose that depends on wha’ ya think it is,” Hagrid mumbled.

“Well, I think it’s a dragon,” Draco stated.

Hagrid’s cheeks flamed. “Oh, Hagrid, you didn’t,” Hermione sighed.

“A dragon!” Dudley was both awed and afraid. “But Hagrid, dragon breeding was outlawed in 1709! You could get arrested for this.”

“Where did you even get it?” Theo asked.

“Er, well, I met a bloke down at the pub a few nights ago. We were playin’ cards an’ I won it off ‘im.”

“A bloke at the pub just happened to have a dragon egg,” Draco said, “because they’re so legal.”

“Well, I s’ppose now ye say tha’ it is a bi’ weird. O’ course I were down at the Hog’s Head, mind. Lots o’ strange folk down there. Bu’ I got it all under control!”

“Hagrid,” Harry started, “you can’t keep a dragon. It’ll get bigger than your house. Besides, it deserves to be with other dragons.”

“Hagrid, this wizard,” Blaise started, “Did they want to know anything weird? I doubt he would give his dragon egg to anyone.”

“Well, sure he wan’ed ter know abou’ wha’ creatures I looked af’er and I told him ‘bou’ Fluffy. I told ‘im, I said ‘Trick’s always ter know how ter calm ‘em. See with Fluffy just play ‘im a bit o’ music an’ he’ll-’” He stopped mortified. 

Before he could say anything else, Dudley cut him off. “We already know how to get past Fluffy, Hagrid. You didn’t tell us. But this guy wanted to know about Fluffy. What did he look like?”

“Never really saw ‘is face ter be honest,” Hagrid scratched his beard.

“Please, Hagrid, you said other things were guarding the stone, right?” Hermione begged.

Hagrid looked around at their ashen faces and sighed. “Aye, all the professors laid down some enchan’ments ter guard it.”

“Even Professor Snape and Quirrell?”

“Well, sure, why wouldn’ they?”

\----

“I think we deserve a bloody medal for the things we’ve put up with this year. The stone, weird headmasters, evil professors, and now a bloody dragon! Is this the norm here?” Dudley griped after they had returned to the castle.

“I certainly hope not. I think I’ll have a heart attack,” Hermione concurred.

They all plopped down at what was fast becoming their regular table. Neville’s head hit the table with a thunk, and he moaned in a helpless sort of way.

“So,” Harry heaved a heavy sigh, “what do we do about the dragon?”

“I suppose we should ask Professor Kettleburn for help,” Theo suggested. “He’s the Care of Magical Creatures Professor. My cousin says he’s always been a bit eccentric and won’t bat an eye if we ask about dragons. I’ve also heard he has a sort of camaraderie with Hagrid so he’ll possibly be able to talk some sense into him.”

Professor Kettleburn was a nice man with a grizzly visage as he had numerous scars and was missing several limbs. He was, however, overenthusiastic about the entire situation. He seemed to take the same stance as Hagrid but still realized that it wasn’t feasible to keep a dragon at Hogwarts. He suggested they talk to Charlie Weasley, a previous student who had just gotten an internship at the dragon reserve in Romania. No one was best pleased to have to ask a Weasley for help, even if the twins were alright, but all agreed to get the twins’ to contact their older brother. In the meantime, Kettleburn promised to get Hagrid to agree to whatever plan Charlie came up with.

The good thing about the Weasley twins was that they didn’t ask questions when the Gryffindor trio asked them to contact their older brother. They had knowing smirks on their faces and quipped about helping their “troublemaking proteges.”

In the time it took Charlie to reply, the dragon hatched. Hagrid secretly invited the group of friends down to witness it. Draco was particularly excited about the hatching. He admitted that, like Hagrid, he had always wanted a dragon. Ever since he learned the meaning of his name, he had been interested in them. Dudley was similarly impressed by the experience. Blaise seemed somewhat disgusted by it all, and Neville had jumped ten feet in the air when the dragon accidentally snorted fire. Luckily, nothing but Hagrid’s beard was harmed. 

In Charlie’s letter, he told the Gryffindors he and some friends from the reserve would portkey to the edge of Hogwarts’ wards where Hagrid would need to walk the dragon out to them. They’d then portkey back to Romania and take little Norbert, what Hagrid had decided to call the dragon, with them. Hagrid had asked the boys to be with him when they sent the dragon off, and while neither Harry nor Dudley was particularly keen on being out of bed and out of bounds at night, but they had grown to like the gentle giant. So they agreed to use the cloak to see Norbert off. Once Draco heard the plan, he insisted on coming along as well. He admitted to going down to Hagrid’s several days a week to help with keeping the dragon. He seemed to be as sad as the groundskeeper.

Draco and Harry picked Dudley up from Gryffindor tower. Dudley thought the three would have some trouble squeezing in together, but Draco was lithe, and Harry was short and skinny for his age. Next to Draco, Dudley couldn’t help but notice how much smaller his brother was. Put up against the blonde, Dudley could see the toll years of neglect and abuse had on his brother’s body. He said nothing about this as he slid underneath the cloak.

The night was clear, and the moon shone brightly. The air was crisp with the smell of spring. The trip down to Hagrid’s hut was uneventful. They stayed under the cloak until they got to the ward line. Charlie and two other dragon tamers stood, waiting for them.

“You’re Dudley?” Charlie asked, only identifiable by the flaming red hair he sported. 

“Yeah, this is Harry and Draco,” he introduced, pointing at the boys beside him. Charlie gave a nod to each.

“Do you have the dragon?” One of the other tamers asked in accented English. Dudley couldn’t place it.

“Righ’ here,” Hagrid offered the cage to the man. When Norbert was out of his hands, he immediately began sobbing. If Draco was also teary-eyed, no one commented.

“Oh, Hagrid, he’ll be alright,” Charlie placated, obviously used to the big man’s antics. Hagrid just sobbed harder.

Dudley took over the conversation, “Thank you for coming. I’m sure you have to get back. We’ll take care of him.”

Charlie waved and said his goodbyes, and the three dragon tamers disappeared with a pop. The three boys escorted Hagrid back to his hut and consoled him. They put on a pot of tea and scrounged up some edible biscuits to go along with it. 

After they finished their tea, and Hagrid stopped crying, the man sent the three off to bed. “It’s already too late,” He said, ushering them out the door.

They trouped up the pathway back to the castle quietly. Just as they were about to reach the entryway, a looming figure appeared in front of them. “Out so late, Potter?” The voice drawled from the shadows.

The man stepped into the light and raised an eyebrow. It was Snape, and Blaise was following him with his head down. “I believe you can consider yourselves in very deep trouble.” He smirked.

\----

“The forest, seriously? Isn’t it forbidden for a reason?” Dudley asked. 

The boys had landed themselves in detention for the rest of the year, and though it pained Snape to do it, he had taken points from his own house. Though, not as many as he took from Dudley, who he dubbed “the ring leader.” It was safe to say that no one had been best pleased with them when their housemates found out. 

“Would you rather be cleaning dusty old trophy cases?” Draco asked.

“Yes, I would,” Harry replied for his brother, “Scrubbing, I know how to do. Besides, I think we’ve all had quite enough adventure for one year.”

They were all assembled in the entrance hall, waiting for Filch to come and collect them. According to Snape, they couldn’t be trusted to find their way to Hagrid’s hut on their own; they needed a chaperone.

“He’s right there,” Blaise agreed, “I don’t fancy what we’ll find in the forest and at night no less.” Blaise was only there because he had gone to find the boys when they didn’t come back after a few hours. He hadn’t intended to alert Snape to his presence, but his invisibility cloak wasn’t nearly as good as Harry’s. When Snape managed to round them all up, it seemed to Dudley the potions master was more frustrated that his Snakes had been caught than angry they had broken the rules. However, he appeared gleeful at taking so many points from Gryffindor and assigning Harry detention. 

Draco looked put out with the three of them out but didn’t argue. Filch arrived, Ms. Norris in tow, and walked them out to Hagrid’s. When they approached, they saw Hagrid was sporting a crossbow and Fang was sitting beside him. This worried all four of them.

After Filch left them with some threats of more violent punishments, which brought back horrible memories for Dudley and Harry, Dudley broached the subject of their detention. “So, what exactly are we doing in the forest, Hagrid?”

“Bin spottin’ a lot o’ unicorn blood in the forest. Think one o’ ‘em is wounded real bad. We’re gonna try ‘n’ find her.”

“Do you really think the crossbow’s necessary?” Draco hedged. He was trying to appear unafraid but was fooling no one.

“We’re goin’ far inter the forest. Never know what you’ll find there.” All four boys shuddered. “Follow me now, an’ stick close.” Hagrid waved a hand and walked toward the forest. “Keep yer wands out now.” He called as they passed the tree line.

“What good are our wands going to do when we only know a year’s worth of magic?” Draco whispered.

Blaise nodded his head in agreement but stayed silent. Harry had withdrawn ever since their parting with Filch, and Dudley worried he was caught in a flashback. He kept sneaking glances toward his brother, but his Slytherin mask was perfectly in place. He wouldn’t ask him with the others around, but he discreetly brushed his hand against his brother’s every so often to let him know he was there. Hagrid lead them through the forest down a worn path. The trees became denser as they walked on, and what daylight was left faded to black. All four boys cast “lumos” with their wands, but they could only see about five meters ahead even with the light. After about thirty minutes, the path ended.

“We’ll have ter split up here. Looks like two paths o’ blood,” Hagrid said. “Draco, Blaise, you can come with me. Harry, Dudley, take Fang and go right. Have ya learned how ter send sparks with yer wands?” He asked the group. They all nodded. “Good, then if ya see summat send up sparks with yer wand, and we’ll come ter ya. If ya see our sparks, make yer way over ter us.”

Dudley and Harry paired off and went towards the right, fang trotting along after them.

“You okay?” Dudley asked his brother when they were far enough away.

“Yeah, just a bit shaken, I guess,” Harry replied.

“That Filch is a right old bastard,” Dudley cursed. “Was it a flashback?” Both boys suffered from what they knew to be PTSD. When Harry had his first flashback during recess in third grade, they looked into the causes. They suspected PTSD, but it wasn’t until Dudley started experiencing dissociation that they genuinely believed it to be the reason. Both boys presented in different ways; Dudley tended only to dissociate and rarely had flashbacks. When he did, he was more present in them than Harry usually was. On the other hand, Harry seldom dissociated but tended to have more intense flashbacks, sometimes re-experiencing the abuse. Dudley helped him calm down from quite a few, and the two realized that they both responded best to sound and physical stimuli to pull them back to the present. 

“Yeah, but not a bad one, thank Merlin,” Harry sighed. “I was able to keep my head at least. Can’t imagine what would’ve happened if I thought I was eight again. Don’t need the whole school thinking I’m mental,” the boy shuddered. Most of Harry’s flashbacks surrounded the first year Vernon started beating him. It broke Dudley’s heart every time he watched Harry relive those moments. They began to try to deal with the memories themselves; Dudley desperately wished that they had access to a therapist. But with only themselves, they researched as much as possible. Over the years, they began to develop rudimentary coping mechanisms that helped them stay present in the moment.

“You’re not mental,” Dudley hated it when Harry talked like that. Through their reading, they both knew that PTSD was a natural response to trauma. Harry wasn’t mental; bad things had happened to him- to both of them.

Harry just shrugged his shoulders. It was one thing to know something and another to believe it.

They walked in comfortable silence, or as comfortable as it could be in the middle of a dark and somewhat scary forest. They continued to follow the trail of blood until Harry’s scar started to twinge. His face scrunched up in pain, and he gasped as they continued on.

“Lee,” he panted, “I think I need to stop.” He was breathing heavily and had his eyes closed. He doubled over one hand on his knee, the other clutching his forehead.

Dudley was about to tend to his brother when something caught his eye. “You rest,” he instructed, “I think there’s something over there. I’ll have a quick look and come back, okay?”

Harry grunted in reply.

Dudley knelt down and pushed some bushes open to get a better view of the clearing. Pressed up against a tree stump was the unicorn, dead. Silver blood stained the ground around her. The sight was immediately saddening to Dudley, but he didn’t have time to mourn her. A figure, almost like a wraith, was huddled over her, drinking from her neck. He was repulsed and had the intense urge to vomit. The form appeared to be talking to itself, but Dudley was too far away to make out what it was saying. It hadn’t noticed him yet, and for that, he was grateful. He was backing up intending to grab his brother and get out of there when his leg rustled the bushes. The hooded figure immediately turned to look at him. It stood up and started advancing. Any thoughts that it might have been a creature were erased from his mind; its shape was distinctly humanoid. He couldn’t get a good look under its cloak, but he thought he saw piercing red eyes staring at him. For a second, he stood frozen. Then he heard his brother moan behind him. The sound spurred him into action, and he didn’t bother sending red sparks up with his wand. He turned around and sprinted back to Harry. 

“Harry, we have to go! Now!” Dudley urged his brother up off the ground. Harry’s moans were only growing stronger as the figure approached. “Harry, I know it hurts, but we have to run!” He grabbed his brother by the arm and tugged. Harry stumbled after him, one hand still clasped to his forehead. They both ran in the opposite direction, hoping they wouldn’t find anything worse. At one point, he thought he heard hoofbeats behind him, but he didn’t turn around to look. When they reached a sparser part of the forest, he risked a glance behind him, but nothing was there. He slowed down and settled himself against a tree to regain his breath. Harry sat beside him.

“What was that thing?” Harry asked when he got his breath back.

“No idea,” Dudley wished he could say the shaking he was experiencing was from running so hard, but he knew there was fear mixed in as well. 

“I suppose we should send up red sparks, yeah?” Harry asked. At Dudley’s nod of agreement, he pulled the hand that was still clutching his forehead away to grab his wand. Before the boy could say “periculum,” Dudley gasped in horror.

“Harry, your scar’s bleeding!”

“What?” He asked, glancing at his hand. “Sweet Circe!” He exclaimed at the blood. 

Dudley examined his brother’s scar. “I think its stopped bleeding now. We’ll need to put something on it before you go to bed, though.” Harry let out a weak chuckle. “I’m not mothering you!” Dudley hissed, rightly assuming the reason his brother was laughing. “That thing- whatever it was- was bloody scary! We could’ve died! The least you can do is let me take care of you.”

Harry sobered up a bit. “You’re right,” He sighed. “I’ll send those sparks up now.” He raised his wand, and a stream of red shot into the dark sky. They waited thirty minutes before Hagrid burst out of the trees, followed by a haggard Blaise and Draco.

They looked first to Harry’s bloody forehead, to Dudley, and back again. “Are ya alrigh’?” Hagrid asked worriedly. “What did tha’ ter yer forehead Harry?”

Harry surreptitiously glanced at his brother before answering, “A tree branch. Walked into one- it was hard to see even with the wand light.”

Dudley made no move to contradict Harry’s story. He knew that scars, even curse scars, shouldn’t bleed. But by Blaise and Draco’s expressions, neither believed the explanation. It seemed to work for Hagrid, however.

“An’ you, Dudley?” Hagrid turned to him.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Unicorn’s dead, though. Can’t say what killed her,” he replied, taking his brother’s lead. “She’s back that way.” He pointed behind him. “We’d’ve sent sparks back there, but we heard something that spooked us, and we thought it best to get away.”

“Pro’bly so,” Hagrid agreed. “Well, I’d best get ya boys up ter the castle. It’s gettin’ late now. I cin investigate more tomorrow.”

They were silent on the way back to the castle. Once they were finally out of Hagrid’s earshot, Draco and Blaise immediately began to interrogate Harry and Dudley.

“There’s no way that blood came from a tree branch,” Draco started.

“No,” Harry agreed, “it didn’t.”

“So then what happened?” Blaise asked.

Harry and Dudley both shared a sigh. “My scar started bleeding in the forest. Although, Dudley saw more of what happened, so maybe he should tell you,” the black-haired boy explained.

They set a slow pace up to the castle, so they had time to hear the full story and ask questions. Draco and Blaise became more shocked, awed, and horrified as Dudley continued. Even Harry shivered, as Dudley described the red eyes beneath the cloak.

“Could it be Snape or Quirrell?” Blaise asked, operating off their earlier theories.

“With how scary it was, I honestly wish I could say yes, but I just know it wasn’t. This thing was human, but not.” Dudley shuddered. “Both Snape and Quirrell are very human.”

“What are the chances this thing isn’t connected to whoever is after the stone?” Harry ventured. Everyone scoffed. “Yeah, didn’t think so,” He sighed.

“It’s too much of a coincidence. Do you know what drinking unicorn blood does?” Dudley asked the group at large. When everyone shook their heads, he elaborated, “Unicorn blood can keep you alive even if you’re almost dead. You could be drawing your last breath, but if you drank the blood, you’d be able to sustain yourself. Add that to the fact that the philosopher’s stone makes you immortal, there’s no way that thing isn’t the one after the stone.”

“Do you think it could’ve been a glamour?” Draco inquired.

Dudley shook his head. “It didn’t seem like one to me. It was very, very real. If it is using a glamour, it’s using it to look like one of the professors. That was most certainly its own face.” He paused for a moment before adding, “But there’s something else you should know. Drinking unicorn blood curses you. Unicorns are so pure that when you kill one, you draw an old curse on yourself. It’s said that you’ll only live a half-life after drinking it.”

Draco gasped, “The curse of Lady Magic!”

At Harry and Dudley’s bewildered expressions, Blaise clarified, “The curse causes you to lose all innocence. In essence, you taint your soul forever. Your magic is harder to draw from, and most light spells aren’t achievable. Any ability for healing magic is lost as well. Lady Magic only curses those that have done powerful black magic, magic that goes against nature and the sacred laws of the Olde Ways. Besides losing your magic, which is extremely rare, it is the most dishonor you can bring upon yourself.”

Everyone was stunned. “I only know of one person who fits all the criteria,” Harry said. He could tell from everyone’s faces they knew who he was talking about. “Someone who would risk anything to come back from death, someone who would practice black magic and stand against Dumbledore,” Everyone wanted it not to be true, but the evidence was undeniable. “Voldemort.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of first year. Football and the mystery of Fluffy wrap-up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been way too long guys. Sorry about that. I'd blame it on real life but when is real life not crazy these days?  
> This is the long-awaited last chapter of the first book in this series. I promise I am working on the second book: "Dudley Dursley and the Heir of Slytherin" and have a full outline as well as several scenes written. I do want to get a head start and probably prewrite at least 2 chapters before I post the first one.  
> The last part of this chapter (and perhaps the first part of it as well) isn't edited as well as it should be. I just really needed to get this monster up.  
> Also, I'm not set on a title for the series (I have all the book titles figured out) so if anyone has any cool suggestions I'm all ears. Right now I've just been working with "The Dudley Dursely Series." If it helps each of the books is "Dudley Dursely and... something that relates to Harry." I'm going to add this to the series and I'll post all the book titles there without boring you all here.  
> That's all the housekeeping I have, so without further ado, the last chapter of book one.  
> P.S. Happy Halloween/Hallow's Eve/Dia De Los Muertos/Samhain!

Everyone was so busy they barely noticed the coming and going of May. The third place match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw was held at the beginning of the month. To everyone’s surprise, Ravenclaw won the game. The Hufflepuff team was sad but congratulatory of their rivals. After that, the teams decided to put a hold on the first place match to focus on their exams. Hermione roped the Slytherins into her rigorous study schedule, and though it was hard to keep up, Dudley did feel like he was benefiting from it. Almost every day after class, the group would meet at their table in the back of the library. They would each complete the homework assigned for that day, and when they were done, they would all talk about the assignment together, clearing up confusion and adding things they missed. After that, they would take a half-hour break to read, fly, kick a ball around, or anything else that let them relax. Each day was also assigned a subject to study; Monday was History of Magic and Astronomy, Tuesday: Defense, Wednesday: Charms, Thursday: Transfiguration, Friday: Potions and Sunday was Herbology. They left Saturday as a free day. Initially, Hermione didn’t want to allow free time, but Theo brought up muggle psychological studies that proved taking a break improved the retention rate of information. When presented with proof, she had to allow it.

Dudley might have been overwhelmed, but everyone took the time to help him read and understand the theory. No one made fun of him for reading slowly, and they gently corrected him when he switched up letters in his writing. They also realized that by teaching each other, it cemented the information more firmly in their brains. Dudley never grasped the theory behind charms more than when he explained it to Neville.

Of course, even during all of their course work, the thought of Voldemort still loomed in their minds. But there had been no activity regarding the corridor, Fluffy, or the stone. Whoever was helping Voldemort was lying low.

Everyone who wasn’t in the forest that night had been reluctant to agree that Voldemort was trying to come back from the dead. Though Dudley didn’t think it was because they genuinely didn’t believe him, more that they didn’t  _ want _ to believe him. Draco was the last to come to terms with the evidence, but even he had to admit there wasn’t a more feasible option. Unfortunately for the Slytherins, the proof of the Dark Lord’s involvement meant that the focus was back on Snape. While they couldn’t prove Snape was in cahoots with Voldemort, they had no evidence against Quirrell. Snape just seemed the likelier option. They kept an eye on him as much as possible, but even with the need to charge off and defend the stone against Voldemort, they were determined to be eleven-year-olds. Passing their exams and focusing on football was more important. As Draco so bluntly put it, “It’s not our job to do the work of crackpot old fools.” Sometime before exams started, Harry got his cloak back with another cryptic message.

June crept up on them, and before they knew it, it was time for exams. They met together each day to study the next day’s exam. Mornings were dedicated to theory exams, while the afternoon saw them completing practicals with a break for lunch in between. Hermione and Harry both advocated for extra time for Dudley’s exam, something he had been given on tests in the muggle world. As Dudley had written to Hannah for a letter stating the validity of his dyslexia, most teachers were agreeable. Snape was not; he claimed that Dudley only wanted special treatment, which irritated the group, but Dudley had expected it. Even Draco asking on his behalf didn’t sway the man. Professors Flitwick and Sprout, however, offered to spell the tests read to him by the silent reading charm Hermione had shown him at the beginning of the year. Dudley was confident about Monday’s charms exam; with the theory questions being read to him, he easily answered them within the time limit. He also successfully made the pineapple dance across Flitwick’s desk. The little man gave him a smile and a wink after he left. Transfiguration was more challenging; the theory was more complex, and when it came time for Dudley to turn his mouse into a snuff box, it was very plain. Although he also had trouble with the morals surrounding animal transfiguration, which hindered his performance.

Defense was confusing, mostly because the practical exam wasn’t a practical at all. They didn’t do any magic, just identified spells and curses by their wand movements and incantations. Potions was stressful because Dudley had never been any good with the theory. He didn’t finish all of the questions within the time limit, but he didn’t think he would have been able to answer them anyway. He had taken to trying to memorize brewing instructions for various potions because he knew if Snape put them on the board, they would swim before his eyes. Luckily, he remembered all of the steps for the forgetfulness potion, and if his brew was a bit more grey than silver, he didn’t mind. The best part about the exam was Weasley blowing up his cauldron. Although he didn’t find Weasley’s public failure hilarious, the look on the redhead’s face was priceless.

Herbology was his easiest exam. He knew he aced the written exam on procedures, types of plants, and their needs, and when he repotted his Alihotsy, it’s leaves immediately began to bloom.

History of Magic and Astronomy had been paired together because the first was solely a written exam and the second a practical. Dudley wasn’t sure how well he did on the History of Magic exam, but he knew he passed the Astronomy practical.

When the Saturday after their exams rolled around, they decided to celebrate by visiting Hagrid. There had been no peep from Voldemort regarding the stone, and the group almost felt as though they might make it through the year without having to chase after a mad Dark Wizard.

After settling in for tea, Hagrid asked after their exams, which they soon realized he shouldn’t have done because Hermione began to break down every exam they had taken. Draco managed to cut her off by asking if Hagrid had any word from Charlie about Norbert. He had; apparently, they called her Norberta now, as she was female.

Their tea had become tepid before Dudley breached the subject of the unicorns. “Have there been any more attacks? Have you figured out what’s doing it yet?”

“There’s bin one more attack, but I was able ter fix up the filly. Can’t seem ter find wha’s doin’ it though,” the big man replied. “Course Dumbledore reckons we cin hold off a bit. Wants me ter wait until he gets back.”

“What do you mean, ‘until he gets back?’” Draco nearly screeched.

Hagrid shrugged. “Got called away on urgen’ business fer the ministry.”

“You don’t think?” Theo asked. Several of the group shared horrified glances.

Hermione stood abruptly. “Thanks for the tea, Hagrid, but we’ve got to be going.” The others followed suit, shouting their thanks as they fled back to the castle, leaving behind a bewildered Hagrid.

“Should we go now while everyone is distracted?” Blaise panted as they finally reached the great hall’s doors. “Or wait until tonight?”

There was a moment of deliberation before Hermione said, “I think we ought to go now. The sooner we go, the less likely it is You-Know-Who, and whoever is helping him will make it to the stone before us.” They walked towards a hidden alcove near the library so as not to be overheard.

“I thought we had agreed to leave this to Dumbledore,” Draco protested. “Can’t we just owl him and call it a day?”

Dudley was inclined to agree, and it seemed Theo, Neville, and Harry shared the sentiment.

“I’m not excited about rushing after a madman either,” Hermione huffed. “But this must be what Dumbledore wanted all along.”

“That doesn’t mean we need to play his game. This isn’t our job!” Dudley objected. “Why is it so impossible to just be a kid?”

Neville rested a hand on Dudley’s arm before he could let his anger at the situation get the better of him. “As much as I agree with you, Lee, I also think ‘Mione’s right. If this is what the old man planned, just writing a letter won’t be enough. We’ll have to go after the stone whether we want to or not unless we want You-Know-Who to succeed.”

“I propose a compromise,” Blaise suggested. “We owl the headmaster now, and if he doesn’t return by tonight, we’ll go after the stone ourselves.” Everyone agreed.

\----

“Still no word?” Neville asked at dinner that night. The headmaster’s chair was still ominously empty.

“No,” Hermione sighed. “It’s looking more and more like we need to take matters into our own hands.”

Dudley nodded and looked toward the Slytherin table. Four grim faces stared back at him, and Harry gave a small shake of the head. Just as they all had lost hope, Hedwig swooped in and landed in front of Harry. The raven-haired boy quickly read the message, then reattached the letter and sent Hedwig to Dudley. The envelope bore the ministry seal, and he knew at once it wasn’t from Dumbledore. Dudley read the message as quickly as he could before handing it to Hermione. Neville looked at him expectantly.

“It’s from the minister’s secretary. Says Dumbledore is ‘out on classified ministry business’ and ‘can’t be reached at this time.’ It says he should be back in a few days.”

“But we don’t have a few days!” Neville protested.

“I know,” Dudley sighed. “Ten o’clock. After curfew,” He muttered, then went to inform the Slytherins as well.

\----

Harry and the other Slytherins came to pick the Gryffindors up outside the Fat Lady. They all piled underneath the two invisibility cloaks. Even with the disguise, they found the halls ominously quiet and far too easy to navigate. All too soon for Dudley’s liking, they were outside Fluffy’s door.

“Ready?” Dudley asked the group. He received a few quiet confirmations, and Hermione unlocked the door with a spell. They didn’t take off their cloaks until firmly inside.

Fluffy was asleep, the Cerberus’ three heads drooling profusely. There was a magical harp playing in the corner, lulling the beast to sleep. Voldemort had already come through; he was ahead of them. The stone clearly wasn’t in the room; Hagrid has promised them the professors had all set up protections of their own. But Dudley couldn’t see a door.

“There has to be an exit to another room somewhere,” Dudley whispered. The group nodded and fanned out to feel around the walls for a hidden passageway.

After about five minutes, Hermione waved her hands vigorously, trying to catch everyone’s attention. She motioned them to come closer and pointed to something on the floor. It took Dudley a while to see it, but there, etched in the stone, was the outline of a trapdoor. He would have whooped if not for the snoring dog. The door was close to one of the Cerberus’ massive paws. Dudley gently approached the beast and carefully pried the entrance open. He glanced at the sleeping creature to see if his movements had disturbed it, but Fluffy was still snoozing. Down the hole, all he could see was black. He cast a quiet “lumos” and peered into the gloom.

“I can’t see anything,” he relayed to the group. “We’re going to have to jump and hope for the best.” He stepped back. “I’ll go last. I’ve sung the creature to sleep before, and I can do it again if the harp stops playing.”

“I’ll go first,” Blaise volunteered, before promptly jumping into the black. When the others heard no scream, just a muffled grunt, they followed suit until only Neville and Dudley were left.

“You don’t have to do this,” Dudley told the quivering boy. “No one’s going to judge you. You can take one of the cloaks back and wait in the dormitory.”

Neville drew in a deep breath. “No, I can do this. I got sorted into Gryffindor for a reason, right? Who knows what we’ll face down there. My friends need me. I’m not going to let you down.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure.” Dudley agreed.

“I am.” 

In the midst of their conversation, neither boy had noticed that the harp had stopped playing. When Dudley looked up, he realized he was in a too familiar situation with Neville. “Go! Now!” He shouted before giving the other boy a light shove. Dudley frantically sang the lullaby he had used earlier, narrowly escaping the Cerberus’ massive jaws. The bottom of the pit wasn’t what he expected. It was quite soft. He wondered why no one else had pulled their wands out to light the tunnel when Neville’s wandlight caught on the cushy thing they were sitting on.

“Devil’s Snare!” Neville shrieked. Dudley quickly got his hand free and cast his light around as well. His friends were entangled in the plant’s ugly tentacles, slowly sinking farther in. Their eyes were wide, and feelers were wrapped around their mouths. Both boys immediately pointed their wand tips down, making the plant shrink away from them. They jumped up and ran towards a stone edge in the wall to better access the other students.

“Stop moving!” Neville called. Blaise and Theo stopped wiggling abruptly. “Movement only makes it work faster!”

Draco, whose mouth Dudley had managed to break free, screamed. “Faster? That’s comforting! You’re the plant expert, Neville. Do something!”

“Devil’s Snare hates warm and bright,” Neville thought quickly. “We need to make a fire. Dudley free everyone you can and then start casting the fire-making spell. I’ll do the same!”

They worked in tandem, and soon everyone’s wand hands were free.

“Now together,” Neville called. 

“Incendio!” Everyone shouted. The plant flinched back from the light and warmth. Dudley and Neville helped the others pull themselves completely free, and everyone crowded on the ledge Neville and Dudley occupied earlier. Feeling around, Dudley found a passageway and signaled everyone to follow him down it.

“See,” Neville said, sidling up to Dudley, “I was right; you did need me. I’m glad I didn’t go back to the dorms.” Dudley patted his friend on the back and offered him a smile.

“Thanks, Neville,” Blaise said, rubbing his neck. “We would’ve been lost without you. By the time I realized what was happening, it was all around me.”

“Now what?” Theo questioned after everyone chorused their thanks.

“What’s that sound?” Hermione asked. Dudley’s ears caught it seconds later. It sounded like a thousand wings flapping together as if a large flock of geese was getting ready to fly south for the winter. They entered into a dark stone room lit with sconces along the wall. The ceiling was so high Dudley could barely see it. Above their heads, what seemed like hundreds of birds flew above them.

“Who do you reckon did this one?” Dudley asked.

“And what are we supposed to do?” Neville asked. “Will they attack us if we try to make it to the door?”

“Fighting off a bunch of birds?” Draco questioned skeptically. “That seems too easy for someone like the Dark Lord. He could vanish them wandlessly.”

Blaise’s face lit up. “Look.” He pointed to where an old shooting star broom was hovering above the stone floor.

“A broom?” Theo questioned. “What are we supposed to do with that?”

“Well, fly it, I suppose,” Blaise answered.

Draco rolled his eyes. “To what end? Are we supposed to catch the birds?”

Hermione gasped. “They’re not birds.” While the boys had been debating what to do, Hermione ran across the room and tried to force the wooden door open.

“What are you thinking?” Harry asked her.

“This door won’t open with magic. Those aren’t birds; they’re keys.”

When he looked closer, Dudley saw Hermione was right. “But which one is the right one?”

“I’m not sure; it’ll most likely match the door. So, big, clunky, and most likely made of bronze.”

“We have to catch the key,” Theo said, putting it together.

Automatically, everyone looked at Draco. “What?” The blonde asked.

“Well, since you’re so good on a broom...” Dudley filled him in.

Blaise chuckled. “He is right, Draco. Even for all of your posturing, you are the best of us on a broom.”

“Oh, fine,” He said as if being put upon. “I’ll risk my neck, again, to get you your flying key.” He stalked over to the broom and gripped the handle before mounting. “Even if this thing is bloody ancient.”

As soon as he pushed off from the ground, the keys stopped their docile laps around the ceiling and descended on Draco. “Argh!” He screamed and began to fly around haphazardly, trying to avoid being scratched by the flying beasts.

“Draco!” Hermione called from the ground. “There’s one with a bent wing! That must be it!”

It took ten minutes, and when Draco returned to the ground, he had scrapes from head to toe, but the blonde managed to capture the key.

“You’d make a good seeker, Draco,” Harry said in awe.

The blonde’s cheeks heated for a few seconds before he let out a genuine, “Thank you.” He smiled. “But I think football is my sport.”

With the key in hand, they made it into the fourth chamber. It was empty except for a great black floating globe in the center. The dark sphere seemed to be projecting an image onto the ceiling above. The students went to stand under it and found themselves looking at the night sky. It looked to be the same enchantment used for the great hall. 

“It’s not right,” Blaise pointed at a constellation they had learned that year: Orion. “Based on the time of year, he shouldn’t be visible right now. This star chart is for winter.”

Trying to get a better look, Neville accidentally bumped into the orb, causing it to spin. The night sky above them automatically changed. Now Hercules was visible in the heavens.

“That’s it! Good job, Neville!” Blaise clapped the other boy on the back, almost knocking him into the globe again.

“Uh, thank you?”

Blaise grinned at his friend’s confused gratitude. “The globe controls what we see in the sky. We have to match the constellations to a particular star chart. I bet it’s tonight’s.” He put his hands over the globe and turned slightly. Hercules came into the forefront. “This must be sometime in July. See, there’s Hercules, and Draco is right above it.”

“How do you know so much about this? I didn’t think you had an interest in astronomy,” Draco puzzled.

“No, I just knew most of what was being taught this year. Just because you don’t listen when your mother gives you family history lessons doesn’t mean I don’t. Honestly, your entire family is named after stars and constellations. I thought you’d retain more of the information.” Blaise replied, smiling at his friend.

“Flying is as close as I’ll come to caring about the sky,” Draco huffed.

Blaise did a bit more tinkering with the floating orb before announcing his completion to the group. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then they heard a click, and the door to their right flew open. Everyone followed Blaise’s triumphant form through the entryway.

The fifth chamber was lit by torches that came to life as they passed. When they could finally see around them, they found themselves in front of the most massive chessboard they had ever seen. It took up the width of the room; there was no way past it to the door. They were on the side of the black pieces. The white pieces stood opposite them, their features grim and imposing. 

“Looks like it was made for giants,” Neville muttered.

“You think it’s just regular chess?” Dudley asked his brother.

Harry let out a bitter laugh. “Knowing this school, no way.”

“It’s probably wizard chess,” said Theo from where he was inspecting the board. “It’s kin to muggle chess, but the pieces move themselves and can talk. The participants are more generals ordering their men than players moving pieces.” He explained. “Fitting, I suppose...” He muttered before going back to inspect the board.

“Haven’t you seen Weasley play in the common room? I hear for all his faults he is an excellent player,” Blaise told Dudley. And now that he thought about it, Dudley had seen Ron playing chess. It had never seemed odd at the time, but now he remembered multiple voices coming from the board.

“It’s rather brutal, isn’t it?” Harry asked the others.

“Yes,” Neville replied. “Pieces often literally cut down their opponents.”

A loud noise came from where Theo was standing. He had just tried to pass by the board without playing. The white queen loomed above him, her swords barred in an “X” to prevent him from exiting. “I thought so...” he muttered to himself before bowing to the queen. “I meant no offense, your majesty. I shall return to my own side.” He retreated to the others. “We’re going to have to play our way across the board,” He announced.

“What?” Draco spluttered. “But if you’re right, and it’s wizard chess...”

“We could very well die,” Theo confirmed. The rest of the group all turned white. “We’ll have to take the positions of some of the black players. Although I don’t think all of us should play. If this game is as brutal as I think it will be, the fewer people I have on the board that could be sacrificed, the better.”

“You’re going to direct the pieces?” Neville asked.

“Theo’s the best chess player I’ve ever met. He used to win competitions when we were little.” Blaise informed them.

“So who’s playing then?” Draco inquired. 

“I have to continue,” Harry sighed. “It’s what the old man wants.”

“I’m not leaving my brother alone,” Dudley stood firm.

“So the three of us then,” Theo nodded.

“No,” Hermione objected. “I’m going too. If one of us falls, I think we should have at least three people to continue.” Her face was set in determination. 

Theo just nodded again, knowing not to argue. “Alright, Harry, take the bishop, Hermione, the queen-side castle, and Dudley, take this knight here. I’ll be the queen.” They each tapped the pieces they were replacing, and the figures walked off the board.

“Don’t move until I tell you to,” Theo instructed the other three. “And make sure to go exactly where I tell you to.”

“We should go back then. Try to see if we can owl the headmaster one last time,” Blaise decided.

Neville shook his head. “Someone should stay here in case one of them gets injured. The others won’t be able to stop playing.”

Draco nodded. “Good idea. Maybe we should all stay until the game is finished. As important as it may be to notify the headmaster, it would be more prudent to make sure everyone is alive after this.”

After that, the three bystanders took seats along the wall to watch the game. Theo took a deep breath before telling the chess pieces he was ready to play. White moved a pawn first, and Theo moved another pawn as an experiment to see how the pieces would react when they took another piece. As expected, the white pawn demolished Theo’s black pawn. The game was nerve-wracking for the viewers. To the best of his ability, Theo tried not to use Harry, Hermione, or Dudley. As the black queen, he moved around the board a lot more than the others. They had checked the king quite a few times before Draco gasped behind him.

“Theo, no!” He cried. 

“It’s the only way,” Theo replied, not even turning around.

“What’s the only way?” Dudley asked frantically from his square.

“You’re in a position to checkmate the king, but he has to take the bishop, which will leave him open to being taken by the queen,” Draco explained.

“No!” Dudley echoed Draco’s earlier outcry. “Theo, it’s too dangerous! She has swords. She could cut you in half!”

“If we want to make it to the stone, I have to do this. After I take the bishop, and she takes me, Harry can move to D2, and we’ll have won.”

“I don’t like this,” Hermione said.

Theo glanced back at her and gave a slight smile. “I’ll be okay. Blaise, Neville, and Draco are waiting to help me. Just remember to keep playing even after I fall. One misstep will be considered a move, and it might all be for naught.” Before anyone could argue, he moved to take the bishop. Everyone watched in horror as the white queen advanced on the small, mousy-haired boy. For some reason, all Dudley could hear was the theme from  _ Jaws  _ as she moved ever closer. The movie had scared him when his father forced him to watch it. He had nightmares for weeks afterward and never truly enjoyed the beach again. Though now, he thought it somewhat fitting. The queen was big and white, after all. But unlike the shark, there was no blood when the queen took possession of Theo’s square. Instead, she knocked him aside and dragged his limp body off the board before resuming her place. The boys not playing immediately rushed to his side, and while Dudley wanted to do the same, he didn’t step off his square. 

Harry moved forward to the queen’s square, calling out, “Checkmate!” The king relinquished his sword, and the white pieces still on the board bowed and walked off, leaving them a clear path to the next door.

Harry, Hermione, and Dudley passed by before turning to try and catch a glimpse of their fallen friend. 

Blaise called out, “Theo should be fine! Go on; we’ll take care of him!”

“Good luck!” Neville cried as they exited the chess room.

The next room reeked. A giant mountain troll, bigger than the one they fought on Samhain, lay in the middle of the floor, unconscious. They all tip-toed around it, thankful they wouldn’t have to face it, even if that did mean Voldemort was still ahead of them. They quickly passed by and opened the door to the next chamber.

Immediately after entering the next room, fire sprang up in front of both the entrance and exit. Hermione jumped at the roar of the flames. Black flames lay in front of them and purple behind. In the center of the small room stood a long table with seven bottles on it. A crumpled piece of parchment sat in front of them. Hermione reached it first and quickly scanned it.

“It’s a riddle,” she said and handed it to Harry. The dark-haired boy’s brows furrowed as he tried to decipher it. Dudley didn’t even ask to see it; he knew Hermione would be able to work it out before he could even finish reading.

“Honestly, it’s brilliant. Only Snape would use a riddle instead of magic,” Hermione said.

“You have to hand it to the man,” Harry nodded. “He may be a git, but he’s a smart git. We all have magic, but not everyone is logical.”

The two then bent their heads together and muttered back and forth. They pointed at various bottles, occasionally nodding or shaking their heads.

“Aha!” Hermione finally burst out. “It’s that one!” She pointed to the smallest bottle in the row. “That one gets us through; the one on the far right gets us back.” Harry nodded his agreement.

“But there’s barely enough there to get us through. Certainly not enough for all of us.” Dudley protested.

Harry sighed. “I have to go, Lee.”

“Not without me,” Dudley growled. “We’ve always done everything together. This is no different.”

“He’s right, Harry. Even if I can’t go, you need someone with you. I don’t want you to face whatever is on the other side alone.”

“You think we can both take it?” Harry asked Hermione.

“There should be just enough,” she replied.

“Together then?” Harry turned to his brother.

“Together.”

Just before Harry reached out for the small bottle, both boys found themselves with an armful of Hermione. “Oh, be safe, please!” She hugged them tightly. 

Dudley pulled her back so she could see his face. “ Don’t worry, ‘Mione. Harry and I have no plans of going anywhere.” He hugged her again before letting go.

“You’re a force of a witch,” Harry told her with a smile. “We couldn’t have made it this far without you. Take the potion and help the boys with Theo. We’ll see you when we get back.” Harry reached for the potion again. He took a small sip then handed it to Dudley, who did the same. They stepped through the black flames with no trouble and lingered just long enough to see Hermione make it back through the black. As they turned around, Harry took Dudley’s hand, the only sign he was nervous.

Dudley didn’t know what he expected when he walked into the last chamber. He wished he could say he was surprised by the room’s contents, but a turbaned Quirrell standing in front of the Mirror of Erised wasn’t shocking in the least. Neither of the boys made a sound as they tried to edge around the professor.

“No use hiding boys,” Quirrell called out. “I know you’re there.” When they said nothing, he asked, “Aren’t you surprised?” He seemed to be a bit put-out that they hadn’t balked at the sight of him. 

If it had been any other situation, Dudley might have laughed. “No.” He responded resolutely.

“It was either you or Snape,” Harry agreed.

Quirrell pouted slightly into the mirror. “Ah, well, Severus does seem the type. Though I did think I had everyone else fooled.”

“You did. Just not us,” Dudley informed him.

“Too bad, I didn’t think anyone would see through st-st-stuttering P-p-rofessor Quirrell.”

“So then, if you were trying to kill Harry, why did Hermione see Snape muttering at the football match?” Dudley tried to keep Quirrell talking while his brother slowly inched around the room toward the mirror. In the comics Dudley had read, the villains always liked to go on and on about the brilliance of their evil plans. If he could keep the wayward professor distracted, Harry would have more time to figure out this chamber. If Quirrell was stuck here, it was clearly the last one.

“He was trying to save your dear cousin, of course. Always managed to thwart my efforts,” The man hissed.

“Is that why you were arguing with him outside the corridor?” Dudley asked.

“Ah, so you saw us? You and your brother are more meddlesome than I initially imagined.” In an instant, he turned his wand on Dudley, and he felt himself pulled back against the wall. Chains fell from the ceiling, encircling and pulling him up by the wrist. Another set of chains sprang from the ground and wove around his ankles. Dudley grunted at the pain as the ligaments in wrists stretched past their normal limits and cursed himself for putting his wand away in the potions room. He could use a good “alohomora” now. While Quirrell was preoccupied with tying him up, Harry reached the middle of the mirror and peered into it. He seemed to be thinking deeply and silently muttering to himself.

It looked as though Quirrell was going to say something else, but before he could, a loud hissing came from his turban. Dudley had a moment to wonder what he was keeping under there before the Professor turned to his brother.

“Potter!” He screeched. “You think you could slide by me without me noticing?” The man had his hand around Harry’s throat in an instant. His head hit the glass with a loud thunk, but the glass didn’t shatter. More hissing ensued, and Quirrell grabbed his turban, letting go of Harry. The black-haired boy stumbled to the side, clutching the back of his head. Wobbling, he dropped to his knee, his breath coming in hard pants. With both boys taken care of, Quirrell seemed to be unconcerned with them for the moment. He kept muttering to his turban about the stone and the mirror. Harry had regained some sense, and he was blinking his eyes at his brother. Quirrell was too focused on the mirror to see him get up.

Harry approached his brother, still unsteady on his feet. “The mirror,” he whispered. “The stone is in the mirror. I almost got it. I need to get back in front of the mirror.” Dudley didn’t understand what that meant- how could a stone be in a mirror?- but he trusted his brother. 

Quirrell seemed to have come to the same conclusion. “I’m presenting it to you! But why don’t I have it!” Harry took his wand and started to try to get his brother’s chains off while Quirrell screamed in frustration.

The hissing got louder, and Dudley thought he could hear a voice say, “Use the boys!”

“Yes, yes. The boys.” He said before turning to them. “Dursely, Potter, come here!” The chains flew all the way off. Dudley rubbed his wrists, both tender and red, from the chaffing of the unforgiving metal. They shuffled forward, playing along. All Harry needed was to stand in front of the mirror, and they would have the stone. Dudley could work on how they were supposed to escape with the stone while fighting a fully grown wizard later. 

Quirrell grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pushed him directly in front of the mirror. “What do you see, boy?” Harry flinched at the epitaph but looked resolutely into the mirror. Dudley watched his brother to see what was going on, but the other boy’s face was impassive. Dudley was never more glad that Harry had sorted into Slytherin than he was now. Suddenly, he saw the outline of something small appear in his brother’s pocket. Harry did not move to acknowledge it, and Quirrell took no notice.

“Well?” Quirrell demanded again.

“I see myself with a badge. I’ve been awarded Head boy.”

“He lies!” The voice hissed again. “Let me speak to him!” A shudder ran through Quirrell, and he began to unwind his turban.

It was the most grotesque thing Dudley had ever seen. There was a face on the back of his professor’s head. But it wasn’t a normal face. Instead, it was almost flat and might have blended into the back of Quirrell’s head if not for its glaring red eyes and a snake-like nose. Dudley knew at once this was Voldemort. It was Quirrell they had seen drinking blood in the forest that day. Voldemort’s eyes bore into his like they could see the inside of his soul. He wanted to flinch away but was frozen to the spot. Beside him, his brother seemed to be going through the same battle.

“It’s good to meet you again, Harry Potter.” The face twisted up in the imitation of a smile. “I have been watching you from afar this year through the eyes of my humble servant. Most interesting that you were sorted into my own house.” He turned his eyes back to Dudley. “And Dudley Dursley, an anomaly. The Mublood’s sister made a Mudblood of her own.” He turned around to Harry. “Now, give me the stone. I know it’s in your pocket.”

Harry laughed humorously. “And why would I do that?”

Voldemort smiled again. “Ah, ever the Slytherin. Perhaps, I won’t kill you if you hand it over.”

“Perhaps,” Harry replied. “But you never said anything about Dudley.” Suddenly, Harry poked Voldemort in the eye with his wand, fired off a knock-back jinx at him, and sprinted toward the flames with Dudley in tow.

“No!” Quirrell and Voldemort screamed together, Quirell barely maintained his footing. Quirrell faced them again and started flinging curses. The sickly green light of the killing curse narrowly missed the top of Harry’s head. A blasting curse sailed over Dudley’s shoulder, but a  _ diffindo _ caught him in the back of the leg, and a large cut ripped its way down his thigh. He screamed as he fell to the floor. Three more caught him in the back, one right after another, and it felt as though his father was bearing down on him with his belt. He tried desperately to stay in the present, but he could feel his panic pulling him under. Harry raced to his side and frantically tried to get him up and moving again, but it was no use. Light from the curses and hexes Quirrell was aiming at them continued to soar by.

“He’s not here, Lee. It’s not him.” Harry wrapped his arms around his brother’s torso, trying to calm him. “It’s not him,” he continued to mutter as Quirrell advanced on them. “But we need to go. Can you stand?”

In the back of his mind, Dudley knew there was something wrong. He knew he needed to move. The urge to get on to his feet and go with his brother was strong, but he couldn’t feel his legs. Time was moving in slow motion, and he couldn’t focus on his brother’s face. It seemed distorted.

“I c-can’t.” He tried to stutter out. “I c-can’t- I’m sorry.”

Harry grasped Dudely’s face in his hands gently. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

Harry left Dudley’s field of vision then, and he heard his brother’s voice screaming something, but the words were garbled. And then there was more screaming. But it wasn’t coming from Harry this time. He turned his head slowly to see what was going on. Above him, his brother had his hands on someone’s face- he knew he should know who- and smoke was rising from their skin. Dudley used his arms to crawl toward his brother and the man. He reached out to grab him if only to ground himself for a moment, and the skin underneath his hands began to smoke too. The man was screaming, other voices were shouting, and Harry was crying. He wanted to help more than he was, but all he could do was hold on to the man’s legs. Soon enough, he crumpled to the ground. Dudley kept hold until something wrenched him backward. He had a last glimpse of his brother unconscious on the floor before Dudley lost himself to the blackness.

\----

When he woke, it was to the bland, white ceiling of the hospital wing. He turned his head and saw the familiar form of his brother in the bed next to him. Harry had his eyes closed, but Dudley knew from experience that he was only feigning sleep. Dudley took a quick peek around at his surroundings and found a veritable host of treats laid out at the end of his bed. Harry had an even bigger pile, and bouquets of daisies and peonies adorned his bedside table. Madam Pomfrey was bustling around straightening the covers of unoccupied beds, waiting for Harry and Dudley to wake up. Over to the side, Dumbledore was in a heated discussion with Snape and McGonagall. This must be why Harry was pretending to be asleep. Dudley couldn’t make out what the three professors were talking about, but it sounded as though Snape wasn’t happy about whatever the headmaster was saying. A second later, he gave a curt nod and all but stormed out of the hospital wing. McGonagall stayed a few seconds longer to talk to Dumbledore but then departed as well.

Harry cracked an eye open to look at Dudley; he must have noticed the other was awake as well. Dudley quickly glanced at him to see if he heard anything. Almost imperceptibly, Harry gave a slight head shake.  _ Too bad _ . It would have been nice to know what they were whispering about; it most likely had to do with him and his brother.

Just as Dumbledore began to amble towards them, Harry gave a convincing stretch, winced, and sat up. Dudley did the same a few moments later so as not to appear suspicious. By the glint in the headmaster’s eye, he wasn’t sure he managed.

“I’m glad to see you both awake,” The older man started, taking a seat in one of the chairs at the end of Harry’s bed. There were quite a few surrounding both occupied beds; people had undoubtedly come to visit them while they had been unconscious. 

“It’s good to be awake, sir,” Harry replied genially. His voice cracked a bit, however, and he seemed fatigued. Dudley wondered if his brother had a better memory of what occurred down in the bowels of the school than he did.

“You both gave us quite the scare,” the headmaster continued, but there was no admonishment in his tone. He almost seemed proud, as if he just felt obligated to reprimand the boys because he was their professor.

“I think it was quite a shock for us as well,” Harry appeared light-hearted, but his eyes were cold.

“And how are you feeling, Dudley, my boy?” Dumbledore turned his blue eyes to the older boy.

Dudley drew in a breath, knowing he needed to follow his brother’s example and play the part the wisen wizard expected of him. “Well enough, sir. How long have we been here?”

“Three days,” Dumbledore answered.

“And the stone?” Harry questioned, but he didn’t seem concerned.

“Destroyed,” the old man responded.

“So Nicholas and Perenelle saw fit to let it go,” Harry muttered almost to himself. Dumbledore smiled, no doubt pleased they had done their research. “They’ll die, won’t they, sir?” He inquired.

“Yes, but they are by no means young. I think they’ve made their peace with the matter.”

“But what exactly happened?” Dudley addressed his question to the room. “I’m afraid I don’t remember much.”

“Ah, quite the tale,” Dumbledore’s blue eyes sparkled once again. “Perhaps, young Harry would be better at telling it.”

Harry glanced at the headmaster and then back to his brother. His demeanor was reserved and cautious. There must be something he remembered that he either didn’t want the professor to know or know that he knew. With a nod, Harry turned in the bed so that he was facing his brother dead on. “After we tried to get away and you were hurt,” Dudley could read the subtext. He meant during the panic attack he had experienced in the chamber. Unfortunately, Dudley could remember that with great clarity. “Well, Quirrell was bearing down on us, and I turned to face him. He lunged at me, and I didn’t know what else to do, so I grabbed his face to push him away. But when I made contact with his face, he began to burn. I’m not sure what possessed me, but I did it again, and smoke began to rise from him.” Harry shuddered, most likely remembering. Dudley realized that was probably the screaming he had heard. “His face just... melted.” His eyes were haunted.

“Like the Wicked Witch of the West?” Dudley tried to bring his brother out of his memories.

“A bit yeah,” Harry gave a weak smile. Dudley made note that Harry failed to mention that his hands had burned Quirrell as well. Was this what Harry wanted to hide from the headmaster?

“And Voldemort?” Dudley pressed. “He’s not gone, is he?” He knew in his gut his fears would be confirmed.

The sparkle faded from Dumbledore’s eyes. “No, my boy, he is not. Existing but not ruly being alive, he cannot be killed. And there is no doubt he will try to rise again. But we will deal with that when it comes.”

They were all silent, thinking about that for a few moments. “Sir,” Harry began when he could put his thoughts together. “I have a few questions I was hoping you could answer.”

“I will do my best to answer then.”

Harry schooled his features into that of an inquisitive and innocent young student instead of the cunning boy trying to gather information his brother knew him to be. “Well, first, I wanted to know why I had the effect I did on Quirrell?”

“Love, specifically your mother’s.” Both Dudley and Harry were unable to hide their bafflement. Their expressions were not lost on Dumbledore, so he continued. “She died to save you, and that act of unadulterated and absolute love protects you to this day. Voldemort, being the twisted soul he is, cannot stand the purity of such an emotion.”

“Speaking of,” Dudley cocked his head to the side, realizing something. “I understand that Harry’s mum, my aunt, died to save him and all, but why did she have to do that? I mean to say, I’m not sure anyone’s ever told us why Voldemort was after Harry in the first place.”

“An understandable question, my boy, but unfortunately one I can’t answer yet.” Dudley had to hide his huff of annoyance. The old man was keen to send them on a death-defying adventure but wouldn’t tell them why they were in danger? What a bunch of tripe. “I promise I shall indeed answer in time.”

“Another question, sir.” Harry interrupted Dudley’s irritated musings. “The invisibility cloak. Do you know who sent it?” Dudley wasn’t surprised by the question, even though they both knew the answer. Although having it confirmed by the headmaster would solidify a few of their concerns. Dudley couldn’t help but hope, even with all the evidence to the contrary, that they were wrong in their assumptions of the sender.

“Ah, well, it was your father’s. It happened to be in my possession when he died. I thought You might like to have it back.”

“I appreciate that, sir.” Harry nodded his head, respectfully.

“Sir,” Dudley spoke up again. “How is it that Voldemort is alive? From what I know of the wizarding world, it’s weird, but normally there aren’t people on the back of other people’s heads.”

“Unfortunately, any answer I could give would be pure conjecture on my part. There are many ways a wixen can sustain themself without a body, each more insidious than the last. Best not to dwell on the specifics, my boy.”

“One other thing, sir?” Harry seemed to be done questioning the headmaster, apparently believing he would get no more useful answers out of him, but Dudley had one more mystery to solve.

“Oh?” Dumbledore turned his attentive eyes to Dudley.

“Yes, sir, I wondered, well it seems that Snape-”

“Professor Snape, Dudley,” the old man admonished.

“Yes, Professor Snape,” Dudley proceeded on. “It seems like he favors Slytherisn and hates Gryffindors, particularly me. And I suppose I can understand that with the house rivalry and him being head of Slytherin and all. But Harry’s a Slytherin, Sir, and well, it seems like he hates Harry too.” Harry shot him a glare. He obviously didn’t want the headmaster to know about his troubles with Snape. But Dumbledore to waited for an actual question before answering, so Dudley continued. “I was just wondering why? I understand why he would hate me; I’m a Gryffindor. But why Harry, when Harry is a Slytherin?”

“I would think that that has something to do with Harry’s parentage.” Harry fought to hide a grimace, this was apparently something he already knew. “Professor Snape and James Potter were in the same year in school, and they rather dested each other. Not unlike your rivalry with Mr. Weasley, although they were in different houses, of course. But then James did something Severus could not ignore, even through their mutual dislike; he saved his life.”

Once again both boys were baffled. Not because they couldn’t imagine James Potter saving Professor Snape; Dudley would save Ron’s life if he had to, just because he hated the boy didn’t mean he thought he deserved to die. No, it was the fact that this particular event would cause Snape’s hatred of Harry. If anything, James’ heroics should have endeared Snape to him. There must’ve been more to the story that Dumbledore didn’t seem fit to share.

Although this admission got the headmaster to share a bit of information they hadn’t asked for. “I believe he fought so hard to save you this year so that he might pay James back.”

Harry wore a calculated look on his face and nodded. Dudley had no doubt he would be filled in later. After assuring the headmaster they had no more questions, the man left them to themselves. 

\----

“Wow, that’s a lot,” Hermione breathed after Harry had relayed the events of the chamber and exchange between Dumbledore and the boys to the group. Both Harry and Dudley had bullied Madam Pomfrey into allowing Hermione, Neville, Blaise, Theo, and Draco in to see them.

“I’ll say,” Neville agreed.

“I suppose the most helpful bit of information is that Snape owes your father a life debt, Harry.” Theo concluded.

“That’s what I was thinking.” Harry agreed.

“A life debt?” Dudley asked.

“Means that because your uncle saved Professor Snape’s life, he owes him something in return. If he hated the bloke, it probably would set him off owing something to an enemy.” Blaise answered.

“But what about Dudley and Quirrell?” Draco inquired. “You said he burned him too?”

“I’ve been wanting to know the same thing,” Dudley nodded his head at Draco.

“And you didn’t ask the headmaster about it?” Hermione confirmed.

“No, I wanted to hear what he would say if I didn’t. I had a feeling he wasn’t expecting Dudley to have the same effect as me on the man.”

“Well, if he’s right about your mum’s love and all, stands to reason that love has something to do with what happened with Dudley as well.” Neville concluded.

“Perhaps, but I never met my aunt,” Dudley informed them. “My mum and her sister were estranged. So I’m not sure how her love would affect me.”

The group was silent for a moment.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter right now.” Blaise said. “Right now, what matters is you two getting better. I’m sure there will be plenty of time to think on this issue in the future.”

“How about footie?” Dudley turned to Neville. “I’m guessing we missed the game?”

“Yeah,” Neville scuffed the floor with his shoe. “We were all pretty worried about you guys, both teams. Worst match of the season I’d say.”

Theo nodded. “Normally, I’d be overjoyed saying this but we won. I know how much the league means to you.”

Dudley looked sad for a moment then sobered. “Can’t say I’m not disappointed but I’m also happy. If Gryffindor couldn’t win first place I’m glad Slytherin could. Besides,” Dudley turned to Neville. “We still got second, yeah?”

“I suppose you were a bigger loss to Gryffindor than Harry was to us- no offense.” He directed the last to the dark-haired boy.

“None taken,” The black haired boy smiled. “I’m not sure football’s my sport. I think I might try out for Quidditch next year.”

“You’ll have to get a good replacement then, Theo.”

“What?” The mousy-haired boy asked.

“For next year,” Dudley replied.

“Next year?” Theo’s head popped up.

Dudley laughed. “Aw, come on, you didn’t think this was going to stop next year. With the following we’ve got? We’re almost as big as Quidditch! Plus, Gryffindor’s going to beat your arse next year, Nott! Isn’t that right, Nev?” He turned to his keeper.

“No doubt about it, captain,” He smiled back.

\---

The feast was magnificent. Harry and Dudley decided to forego tradition and sit together. The Slytherin first years, even the girls, crowded around Hermione, Dudley, and Neville at the Gryffindor table. Dean was excited to relive the last game of the season for Harry and Dudley, even if he was a bit sore about Gryffindor’s loss. All around the feast was an enjoyable affair. As Dudley looked around at the smiling faces of his classmates, he felt grateful for all the people in his life. It didn’t even matter that Slytherin won the house cup. Never had he imagined that he and Harry would have so many friends. 

\----

The train ride back to king’s cross was a quiet affair. The Slytherins and Gryffindors tried to sit in the same compartment, but it was a tight fit. Draco swore to learn the enlarging charm over the summer so that they could all ride together comfortably next year. Harry, Dudley, Neville, and Hermione ended up together along with Blaise and Theo, with Draco lounging on the floor. Most everyone talked about holiday plans; Draco would vacation in France with his mother, Blaise was headed back to Italy, Neville was excited about a new plant he was growing, and Hermione was going to explore Barcelona with her parents. Harry and Dudley were silent, which was to be expected only offering a few comments about spending time at home, but Theo was also uncharacteristically quiet about his plans for the summer. Blaise and Draco exchanged a knowing look when the mousy-haired boy answered vaguely and avoided their questions.

All too soon, it was time to disembark. The group filed out one after the other onto the platform. Dudley and Harry held back and watched as Hermione was greeted with hugs from both parents, Blaise kissed his mother on both cheeks, Neville trembled in front of his grandmother, Draco got a loving embrace from his mother and a cold sneer from his father, and Theo was engulfed in his brother’s arms. They tried to make their last moments of freedom last as long as they could.

Unfortunately, moments later, they heard the booming voice of Vernon. “Boys!” He bellowed from across the station. “Get over here and get in the blasted car!” 

Harry and Dudley looked at each other and both took a fortifying breath. Dudley took Harry’s hand and squeezed once.

As they dragged their trunks towards their guardians, Harry turned to him, a smirk on his face. “You know, they don’t know we’re not allowed to do magic outside school.”

Dudley grinned widely. “This summer might be easier than we thought.”

And it was with this sentiment that they went to face the Dursleys.


End file.
